Speed of Light
by Akua
Summary: AU.She needed this chance, more then anyone else. She had suffered enough, hadn't she? But... by the end of the day, her debt had increased by eight million yen and all her well thought out plans had gone up in smoke.
1. Chapter 1

**Speed of Light**

**A/N :** ... I have no excuse. Two more weeks and then this semester is over, though.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 1<strong>

Haruhi Fujioka lost her mother to illness as a young girl. It had been a very sad, sad day in her young life. And it had also been a very sad, sad day in the young life of her father and only remaining family member. They grieved together for a month and did their best to move on. Moving on seemed to be the hardest part of it all, though. Her mother's clothes were still scattered around. The rare photo would pop up. All the shoes and papers and her work were all scattered around the house, seemingly ingrained in to the very walls. At times, when wandering the suddenly cold and empty, little hallway of their apartment, Haruhi thought she caught of whiff of her mother's perfume. That, and her daddy tended to hoard her mother's things and cry over them. It was hard to not cry with him. Especially at the meager burial service they were able to provide.

Yes, moving on seemed to be the hardest part. Especially when her father was having such a hard time of doing so. But as the month after her mother's death wore on (like a road that never ended), her father's tears seemed to slow, and the raw pain they suffered together merely became a raw ache. It was like a wound to their souls now, the hurt still fresh. But it was as if the month of tears had scrubbed the rot away from their souls and hearts. Surely, this wound was going to hurt for forever. It would ache with the mere mention of their departed love (wife... mother...), but it wasn't so open now. The burn of it had dulled to something bearable. It no longer felt that she was no longer still just around the corner.

By the time a month had gone by, father and daughter truly accepted that she was gone.

Her father then got sick a month after the painful passing of her mother. Haruhi felt the absolute terror of it all as the horror of illness was pushed upon her once more. Her father's job didn't offer the medical that allowed assistance for what he had (the cancer, oh it was cancer and a whole new terror compared to what her mother had, because this was eating her father alive). But they scrounged up what money they could (all of their savings) and borrowed as much as they could (the interest would kill them later, but at least he would live).

The insurance bills from her mother had nearly wiped them out before. But she had had health insurance from her employment. Her daddy didn't have any of that at all.

The medical bills accumulated over the passing year.

Her mother had died when she was five years old.

She was seven when her father was run over and killed by a drunk driver when she was at school.

Her mother had died on the first day of Spring... February fourth... and her father died, two years later, on that very same day. Like some sick cosmic joke. Haruhi learned to hate spring. She hated the sun and she hated the flowers (and oh, the sun had shined so brightly on both of those terrible, terrible days) and the careless people who hadn't suffered like she had, who couldn't even muster up the sympathy to recognize her painful loss.

She hated them.

With no more family, she was shifted off in to foster care. A system that had been designed to help young children that were in similar situations as she was. Or, that was what the Government Social Worker explained it as. The woman had toned down all of the big words and explained to Haruhi as much as Haruhi, in her grief stricken state, could understand. Haruhi understood that she was being put in to a new home with a few other kids for now. The details were lost to her those first few months after her father passed. Nothing had truly registered to her then. Three months later she had 'woken up' and started to ask her questions... And she had learned that apparently what had happened to her, losing both parents and having no remaining family, was pretty common. And the children were placed in homes like she was in now.

Haruhi didn't like the stricken, grief filled faces of the other children that were there with her. They all looked as shell shocked as she felt. But she didn't feel much of the rawness of it anymore. Or maybe she was pushing it away. She had more things to be concerned about now. Or, that was the logical face she tried to put to the front. She still cried herself to sleep every night.

Through time, though, she learned that Foster Care wasn't all it was cracked up to be. The moment it became apparent that there were different family names between her and her foster parents, it was total alienation for all of them. Everyone suddenly turned cold shoulder. No one in school talked to her, they ignored her. And the adults whispered so harshly about them to each other. And she figured that was where the younger kids had gotten their attitudes from. Even though understanding that the other kids didn't really know why they were acting the way they were didn't help Haruhi feel any better. It didn't calm the anger or sooth the bitter revulsion that lingered in the back of her mouth.

It made her feel like an alien._ ("But I'm human too!")_

But that wasn't the worst part. The worst part was that she was a girl.

And being a girl was dangerous. Being a girl made her a target, and that was very dangerous. Haruhi Fujioka had learned that danger the first time. She was a very, very smart little girl when she was ten. When she was ten, she was skinny and weak and a definite girl, but no one could deny that she was a very, very smart.

Within a week of being placed in another new foster care home, Haruhi learned just how dangerous it was, when walking back the long way to her foster house from her new school. It was such a long distance, and the little girl hadn't expected anything to go wrong. Because it wasn't as if she hadn't already walked down this street dozens of times. 'New' was relative, really. Those streets had already felt familiar to her at the time that the 'incident' had happened. Only the knife wounds and the absolute terror of that incident remained in her teenage self. Haruhi could admit to barely remembering anything at all from the incident (a psychologist, gifted by her foster parents of the time, had called it repressed memories).

But remembering and feeling that fear was more then enough.

Haruhi didn't really remember why she stopped wearing dresses after that, or why she had butchered her hair. But all she knew was that it was safer this way. So she brutalized the hair she loved (that her mother had loved and that her father had loved and helped her care for), and wore boy's clothing. She stayed skinny over the years, and was never able to get in to a proper home outside of the foster care system. None of the families that took her in for a few months seemed to like her much and passed her off when the agreement finished up.

She looked too ratty and thin to be adopted, apparently.

Maybe that... or maybe the adults of Japanese society just couldn't withstand the pressure of alienation. Not even to help a child like her, or anyone.

No one wanted a child that wasn't their own.

Not even for an allowance of 64,000 yen a month.

* * *

><p>When she was eleven, she had learned to defend herself during the summer. She learned to fight like an animal. All teeth and claws and desperation. She had seen the people on the television and watched their refined, classic Japanese fighting styles while pressing her hands to the glass of the stores that had the bright screens on display. But she didn't do anything of that sort of fighting. She fought dirty for her money. She wasn't going to be robbed or pinned or hurt and she would damn herself to hell if anyone got the one up on her.<p>

There was no honor protecting herself and what was left of her possessions from everyone else.

It was her. There was herself. And then there was everyone else.

She had had so many things stolen from her. Some boy had even tried to steal her Grandfather's glasses, the very glasses she needed to see. She won that fight, broke the boy's arm while she was at it. She had jammed his arm up to the elbow in to a chain link fence and had ran in to him and snapped his arm in the opposite direction. She had won the battle, but that boy had won the war when he had snapped her glasses in half.

Haruhi had stolen the other boy's stylish black hat as compensation and taped her precious glasses together.

She had gained so many scars over that summer, but they learned not to mess with 'that boy that no one wanted'. And when she turned thirteen and was moved to another foster home (to another set of green parents who couldn't have kids and wanted to try this process. Too new to know the pain of alienation and the prejudice of 'the old way' and ignorance to just how important blood family is to everyone else) she went through the same process. Only, it did not start and stop with the summer. She moved in to the city, and there, in the city, there was always someone who wanted a fight. She grew stronger, but gained more scars then ever before.

It was almost as if her history was being written on to her skin.

Haruhi found that it made people more wary of her, the way she proudly wore her own skin. She wore sleeveless shirts as often as possible once she realized that it made a good deal of kids leave her alone. Of course, it also attracted the stronger ones that itched for a fight. Scars were something important amongst kids, and Haruhi had joined the throng of boys on the streets, showing off their scars like prizes. Of course, they only seemed to point out the ones where they had won whatever it was they had been up against at the time. Of course, it was here that those tougher, older kids seemed to prowl, looking for any young upstarts that could one day challenge their rule and take them out of the game early. It was amazing what broken bones did to a boy's confidence.

Haruhi never had a bone broken, but her pride took more battering then it should have and she became uncomfortably familiar with the ground under her feet.

But she only grew stronger for it. And learned to be faster when running away from the real big kids in their real gangs and their real guns.

* * *

><p>Hunger was common enough. The lack of funding made food very... meager (she learned this once, when with three other kids, the foster parents had both lost their jobs and things had been stretched so, so tightly before she had been removed). But she had scraped out her meals from the very walls and staved off sickness through sheer will alone. It was pure accident that she got to see over her transfer papers when she was removed.<p>

Boy. They had written down that she was a boy.

For one lonely second she ached for her long hair and the beautiful dresses her mother had worn. But then something inside her gut had jumped and a shiver had run through her whole body at the mere thought of being something... weak. Girls were weak. If they thought she was a boy, then...

... that was fine.

She kept her hair shaggy and dirty. She wore old, worn and donated clothes.

But it was fine.

It was safer this way.

And she continued to wear her skin proudly and she jerked her knees out when she walked, copying the bow legged style many tall boys seemed to have. It looked a little awkward but Haruhi figured that she'd be better in time.

* * *

><p>Haruhi learned to hate this kind of living. Hardly owning anything at all (or really, hardly owning anything at all. Things had been lost over the years. Lost and stolen and slowly worn away in to dust or just plain old outgrown and nothing seemed to really be worthy to replace what she had lost, if that was possible. No, the only things that were replenished amongst her few belongings were the clothes that she needed with her growing body), where the place that she slept was only marginally safer at times then the streets outside. It was at least a roof, but the operators of this most recent foster home were neglectful at best. Verbally abusive at worst.<p>

There were even nasty people in this world of Foster Care that took in the children for Government money and then ignored them. Hardly fed them and didn't even look at them. Haruhi had seen many bad things in life, but at least she was satisfied that these terrible people were always eventually caught. Even if she had to do an anonymous tip herself. For some reason she seemed to have all the bad luck, though. She had hit these kinds of people three times in a row. They never lasted more then two months, these stints with the 'bad people'. The moment she found drugs was the moment for the tip.

But in the meanwhile, in the purgatory between switches, the kids scratched out their living from each other.

Every day was horrible. No respite at all besides school (not that being ignored or bullied was much of a respite). And at these new schools (a new one every six months, tops), Haruhi learned to hate the system too.

The newspapers gave tantalizing glimpses in to a life beyond her own, though. Of the richer end of the spectrum. For some reason whenever someone bought a plane, the journalistic world had a field day. 'Rich Bastards' was not even a swear big enough to cover that. Haruhi thought of them that way anyway, enough though, more then anything else... she wanted to be like them. She wanted their homes and money and food (and by God... she wanted their safety and their family, too).

* * *

><p>English tourists were the best. Haruhi thought this as she led then around during the summer of her thirteenth year of life. Know a little English, direct them around and tell them where to go and how to act and they just showered you with money!<p>

Haruhi wasn't greedy, not really.

She had been informed recently about the debt her family... that she, owed. The staggering three hundred million yen was burned in to her mind. All the money that had been carefully spent and borrowed to keep her beautiful, wonderful father alive had all been wasted when he had gotten mowed down with a car.

Apparently it had been worse at one point... only a little. The drunk driver had paid for the funeral, at least. Even if it was stingy. That man had owed a debt to her family. He had paid only a little of it before he disappeared before he could be hauled off to jail.

She didn't feel any better knowing any of that, though.

Haruhi didn't even have any pictures of her mother or father to pray to anymore. Then had been destroyed a year ago (and she had made sure that girl had paid for it. She had given the older girl a broken nose and several broken fingers and even more fractures. And she had lost a good deal of blood... sadly, Haruhi suffered several fractures and bruises and cuts too, but at least she didn't have to go to the hospital. She didn't want to increase her debt more then it was).

The interest would probably increase the total amount to six hundred million yen. Or that was what Haruhi figured if she was going to finish paying it off by the time she was sixty. As it was, her future didn't look too hot. She didn't know if she could even get a loan anymore, or if she was going to high school at all.

It really was by accident that she had found out how generous English tourists could be. She had known a few broken words and they had had a phrase book. For her trouble she had gotten one thousand yen! It wasn't much at all, but she had saved it all the same.

She had helped a few more and then bought a phrase book herself... and made a business out of it. It wasn't really more then pocket change from some of these people. But it was here, during this time, that Haruhi learned how important the presentation of herself was. She cleaned up her hair and while it still looked like a butchered bob, it looked clean and almost intentional. She wore thin, long sleeved shirts and the best looking jean shorts she could find. She covered her scars and smiled as pretty as she could behind her grandfather's broken glasses.

And the nicer she looked, the more money she had.

She opened a bank account then, trying to find the cheapest thing she could to store her money. She had a few years before she was no longer 'protected by law' from debt collectors. She needed to get the money up fast. She needed to get rich.

This debt was like a knife at her neck. Inches away from opening up an artery.

Her life goals narrowed down to one thing...

... live by any means necessary.

* * *

><p>Haruhi stared at herself in the bathroom mirror. It was roughly two in the morning and no one else was awake but her. She had claimed this hour as her own. She showered and paid attention to her upkeep at this time of the morning. The calm was soothing and anyone else would be asleep or gone.<p>

The bathroom was tiny and cramped, but clean. It had a mirror on the back of the door. A full length mirror. She folded her towel from her shower and placed it on it's rack and turned and looked to herself. She really was skinny. She reached up and pressed her fingertips in to her hip bones, which stood out against her pale, thin skin visibly.

No wonder her current foster parents (what were their names?) always insisted she ate more. Whenever they could look her in the eye. They seemed disturbed by her indifference to the world at large.

A little higher, above her belly button, was one of the five stab scars from when she was young. The scars were white and pink and hadn't faded at all over the years. This set littered her middle and her back. Her shoulders had a herd of scars on them, and more on her back from falling on the ground so much. She called them 'road burn' scars. Of course, they weren't from the road but that was just a technicality.

Haruhi absently pushed up her taped together glasses and just stared at her body, touching a scar every so often.

At times, it didn't feel like this body was hers.

Sometimes, she even felt like an alien._ ("But I'm human too!")_

Haruhi sighed and let her hands drop and then rested her forehead against the mirror. She didn't like thinking too much now, really. Thinking took too much time during a fight, it was always best to react. Of course, such thinking didn't help her grades. She was barely scraping by in her classes, but some deep part of herself wouldn't allow her to not pass middle school. Even if she couldn't go to high school, she at least was going to pass middle school.

But thinking about school had her thinking about other things...

She had pushed a kid she was fighting with in to the street today. He had almost gotten hit by a car. He wasn't an orphan, even Haruhi and her indifference was able to tell that. He was some spoiled little child with both parents and trying to rebel. So she had pushed him. If she had pushed him a little harder, he wouldn't have been able to get out of the car's path.

He probably wouldn't have lived.

She didn't really care, though. He had been trying to bully her. Haruhi wondered if this made her the bad one. Who was the 'evil' one now? Who was the instigator and who was at fault? Him bad for being a bully... or her, for not caring if he was hurt? Haruhi frowned at her mirror self and wondered if she should be concerned with herself right now. (And maybe that sudden moment of terror when the car came barreling down the street was really for herself and her innate fear against cars and the damage they could do, and not for the kid who had almost been mowed down like her father had been, oh so many years ago.)

She wanted to live. And she wanted to live right (comfortably, without fear, with family) and if someone tried to ruin what little she could claw from the world, well...

Shame on them.

Haruhi sighed and turned to her clothes. It was probably a good thing she was so skinny. She thought she was under weight. She hardly needed the bra she had (it was a 'Barely There' brand that she had gotten from a thrift store for the lowest price possible) and she had yet to gain a period like the other girls. Out of fear of that event suddenly happening, she always carried some form of feminine product hidden in a secret part of her bag.

She dressed silently, and pushed her thoughts on morality away from herself. She didn't care what other people truly thought about her. What right did they have to judge her? She didn't see anything wrong with herself. Not yet, at least.

... no, at least not yet.

* * *

><p>At thirteen, during the Fall, it was pure chance that she stumbled upon that scholarship.<p>

* * *

><p>And by fourteen, and standing outside of the gates of the prestigious Ouran Private Academy... Haruhi finally believed that there was a God out there.<p>

The short girl stood in front of the rich silver of the gates and stared through her dorky glasses up at the softly shaded building. She knew that most of the details would be lost, her glasses were old (they had belonged to her grandfather). But as long as they still worked for reading, they were fine. She had worked her fingers to the bone to study to get in to this place. Just thinking off all that work finally paying off brought a gut warming feeling of satisfaction. Clutching her ratty, old middle school bag to her chest, Haruhi took a hesitant step to the open school gates.

Ouran Academy represented so many things to her. It represented a free ride through high school. A school so prestigious that it was rumored to have gotten people in automatically to world famous colleges. And her scholarship had had so many items avaliable to her.

Free school lunch was one of the many, many wonderful things.

It was a pity that the uniform wasn't involved. But Haruhi figured if she brought that fancy blue suit back with her, it'd be destroyed the moment she took it off.

Now that she was here in front of this school, though, University didn't seem so far away now. Her mother had gone to University and had been a lawyer. She had remembered that much. Haruhi was beyond happy that she was getting a free ride through high school, to imagine that it was possible to do so in University made her heart leap a little bit.

She had always known she was smart. Other people had always acknowledged it, too. But at one point Haruhi had traded that innate learning for street smarts. For speed and quickness and the ability to survive, running along the concrete as fast as she could to escape. Escaping what, was often a good question as she sometimes forgot what she was running from. But then again the running was always a freeing feeling. After all, when you could out run all who would drag you down, it was freeing to let the wind lift her hair and let the speed of her body free her. But even the speed hadn't helped her when the feelings of being trapped had taken hold during her year long exile from the streets to the books and libraries. It had taken over a year of studying to put herself back on that 'right track' but she had. Her fingers still ached from all that writing and her brain still felt a bit 'offline' from all the retention it had been forced in to after such disuse. Years of failing middle school grades had been against her, but...

But she had proved them all wrong. Haruhi was so happy...

... she was so happy, she was sure she had never been this happy before.

Haruhi had arrived hours before the start of school. Haruhi would not risk being late (that and she walked. The walking itself took a few hours with some running inbetween. But she didn't want to spend the precious school donated money on travel fare. She'd save it for a better future. What she had been given hadn't even been enough for a uniform either way. And the run was good, she had enjoyed the short little runs when she had let herself loose). Here she was at school, fed and clothed in an old, once dark purple sweater and some old blue jeans; and she was ready to learn, telling herself that she didn't need to run here. She had had to create a tolerance for stillness here, and that she couldn't just run around all the time now like she once had in middle school.

Learn. That was why she was here. Not to pick fights, or assert her dominance in some kind of food chain picking order. She didn't need friends and she didn't need bullies here. She wanted to be invisible. Haruhi had outlined all her future years of high school already. She would remain friendless and invisible to the school population at large. Use all the resources that she could and keep a firm grip on the 'top'.

She had gotten plenty of paper, pens and a lock for her school designated locker. The ground work for the start of her plan.

The only thing she had to do to keep this new school was to keep at the top of her class, '1-A'. For the next three years she just had to be number one. Haruhi's knuckles turned white as she gripped her bag and started a steady walk into the school. She wasn't going to let anyone get the best of her here. She didn't dare loose this scholarship, she didn't want to be poor anymore!

Haruhi needed this chance, more then anything.

She needed this far more then these rich bastards, in any case.

* * *

><p>By the end of the day, her debt had increased by eight million yen and all her well thought out plans had gone up in smoke.<p> 


	2. Chapter 2

Speed of Light  
>Chapter 2<p>

* * *

><p>By the official end of school hours, Haruhi no longer believed in the God that she had recognized that very morning. Haruhi stared blankly at the wall in front of herself as she ignored the sheer chaos of the Host Club that was happening around her.<p>

It was just instant coffee.

Her first task of the Host Club had been to go and replenish some of the items in the back room. It seemed to have failed miserably. Haruhi felt her eyebrow twitch in sporadic motions. "I can go back and get the expensive coffee, if you want." She ground out lowly, eyes shooting up to glare at the blond 'King' of the Host Club as he shook his head and merely held the indistinct plastic container of instant coffee higher and placed a gallant hand on his hip.

"I'll try it." He said to the silence. More of the students seemed to gather.

In fact, Haruhi was sure that with each blink of her own eyes, three more people showed up. They multiplied like she had only assumed Rabbits, cockroaches and ants did.

Tamaki Suoh raised his voice higher, "I will try it!"

... and all the stupid idiots starts clapping! Haruhi took a deep breath and let it out slowly as she moved to the backroom to get some hot water together, just barely avoiding 'Hunny-sempai's lunge for her waist again. The third year was so needy and touch oriented, he grabbed everyone that was in the club.

But Haruhi would make herself an exception.

Tamaki's earlier touch to her chin had made her skin crawl in the most revolting fashion, along with all of his needy grabs as well. She had yet to suffer a hug from the blond, from either of them. Sure, they had grabbed at her a little and Hunny-sempai had jumped on her back, but that hadn't been a real hug. To suffer a hug, though... Haruhi didn't even remember the last hug she had actually had. Haruhi wouldn't allow it. No touching. No contact. No distractions. Haruhi pressed her lips together and shut the door to the backroom soundly, blocking out the noise of the fuss everyone was making, and ignoring the peering eyes of the tiniest Host.

She didn't need this chaos, and most of all she didn't need to be psycho-analyzed by some rich bastard.

Haruhi took a moment, leaning against the extravagant door to breath. She closed her eyes and blocked out the sheer glam and glare of the room around her (why was there such a room in a music room, anyway? Where were the instruments?) to calm her jumbled mind. It was as if when she had made contact with the pedestal that had held that expensive vase her mind had just broke. Haruhi needed time to calm down, to stop the feeling of needing to turn tail and run before she was caught.

To run away before it became too late to save herself.

The breathing helped ground her, even if it didn't help her situation at all. She turned to the shiny, metallic stove that was tucked away in the corner. She grabbed the shiny red tea pot along the way and filled it with water before setting it on the electric coil. She found a matching set of twelve tea cups. All fine, delicate white china.

She froze and stared.

Carefully, slowly, she reached out and grabbed a cup and slowly turned it around in her hands. It felt cold and soft. But yet still firm. The heat of her hands easily leeching over in to the fine white porcelain. It was an all white cup with golden rims. The designs of flowers was merely a texture. Slowly, Haruhi straightened her back and tucked her knees in properly for just one moment and enjoyed the feel of the cup under her hands and the feel of standing so naturally and right and... for a moment she felt like herself.

For a moment, she felt human again.

But even simple things weren't much of an escape. Haruhi sighed and crooked out her knees and slouched her back once more. Angling her head at a downward angle so as to make it look like she was extremely submissive and not even worth looking at. She had become very good at being overlooked, and she knew that people tended to look away when others did what she was doing. Ignored them, even.

Grabbing all twelve cups, she rinsed and dried them all before setting it all on a metal serving tray. Carefully she placed all of the cups on it and, after checking to see if the water was almost done, she stepped outside of the room quietly.

Suoh-senpai was making a fuss in a corner amongst a bunch of girls and the two Hitachin twins. Haruhi took a moment to ponder where she was going to be setting down the tray before she noticed Ohtori's subtle 'come-hither' motion. Haruhi gave a mental sigh and obediently went to the other, acting like the dog they had named her after she had broken that vase.

Ohtori had already set up a table. It had a lacy white table cloth set up with a small vase of yellow and red flowers. The instant coffe plastic container, a set of twelve spoons and a small plate to rest them on were already waiting for her. Haruhi didn't speak a word as she set about, putting the cups in a line, setting up each cup with their respective plate.

She paused and then glanced up to the black haired host who was currently writing something on to his clipboard. Now was as good of a time as ever. She was sure that he wouldn't want to really spare a moment after club activities for her to talk to him. And she had just been so swept away from them since the moment she had stepped in to the room she hadn't gotten a chance to talk about... the financial aspect of her service to the club. "Ohtori-senpai..." She called the other's name softly, trying her best to keep her voice low without it being forced sounding (she didn't want to sound too much like a... girl.. around this host who had eyes and ears seemingly everywhere and an intuition that was just terrifying).

A chill went up her spine when the older boy went still, the only thing moving were his dark eyes as he moved them to look over at her. Haruhi fought the urge to apologize and run. Fought against instinct harder then she ever done before (because really, it was only since today that she had started to fight the natural responses of her body). For one second her heart beat was nauseatingly loud in her ears.

And then he moved.

Ohtori straightened his back and allowed his clipboard to hang at his side as he pushed his glasses back up with a finger. Haruhi resisted adjusting her own glasses as the other boy elegantly angled his head a bit to the side and spoke, "yes?" His voice wasn't the deepest of the club, but it sounded rather cold to her. Cold and impersonal and strangely professional.

"I want a formal contract for my existence in this club." Blunt was always the best way to go about this. Get it over as quick as could be. Like a band-aid.

His eyebrow raising wasn't making her feel any better, but she continued on just the same, "I want to know how this debt is going to be paid off. If it's done by the hour like a normal job, or through the actual tasks themselves. And if so, then how much each task is worth and how that is judged." Haruhi stopped herself from rambling on, because the other's hard gaze was making her nervous. And she did her best to not show just how off-balance the other made her.

The boy hummed and glanced off to the side. For a moment he didn't look as cold. But the moment was gone and Haruhi judged it as herself being antsy over the situation. Ohtori nodded his head once and Haruhi took that as a sign that the other would look in to it, and she went back in to the backroom to go ahead and grab the kettle.

* * *

><p>Haruhi didn't know how she had made it through the day. After the instant coffee fiasco, she had done her best to just keep moving around and refreshing the tables with drinks and snacks. It worked well, and she thought Ohtori was watching over her approvingly and no one said otherwise. The girls didn't even acknowledge her pretense.<p>

... well, most of the girls.

One of them had been watching her like a hawk. The red-brown of her hair had stood out a lot, and Haruhi figured she'd know her name in time. And understand why the other was giving her such... looks.

As it was, Haruhi trudged back to the newst foster care house that she was in. It really was fortunate that it was closer to Ouran Academy then the last place she lived in. Of course, this place was much smaller, but she wasn't sharing this apartment with any other children. And the adults (what were their names?) expected her to be an independent high school student.

Well, she was certainly independent.

Glancing in to a store, she read the time off of one of the many electric clocks that shined out. It was a bit past 18:00. She looked up to the nearly dark sky and hurried her pace. The foster parents usually had dinner around this time and she was fairly hungry for food at the moment. Passing by the stores and doing her best to slink through the crowded streets, Haruhi disappeared in to the crowd.

It was always best to leave the street at the street...

... and she would certainly leave Ouran thoughts at Ouran.

* * *

><p>Ohtori had handed her a packet of papers at the end of her second day and quietly informed her that this was her contract and that she (he) would do his best to read it overnight and return it, signed, tomorrow.<p>

Haruhi spread the papers out over her desk. All twenty six of them. Well, the copies, at any rate. She had thought it wise to make a copy of the contract for her own keeping. The original was still paper clipped together on her new bed next to her bag. Pulling out a yellow highlighter, Haruhi leaned over her desk and sighed at the feeling of a overly tight muscle on her right shoulder. She ignored it and started to read.

The first page was roughly a restatement of what the contract was about. Which was to repaying an eight million yen debt. And to do so, she would be doing 'menial labor' to pay for each cent that the vase's estimated worth was.

He had even put in a definition of 'menial labor' in there for her.

Haruhi highlighted as she read. Going deeper in to the contract of what was expected of her and what things she would have to do and the ones where it was said that she could refuse to do. She did not have to work with the club before or after club times unless there was a specific club event and her presence was required for help or to just be a part of the body count.

it was all reasonable to her. She would be paid by the hour. For two to three hours every day after school she would be getting the average worker's 'pay'. She could deal with that. Doing some quick math, she figured at the start of their third year, she'd be done. Ohtori said that wasn't going to add interest to her debt. Although anything she broke or broke by accident would be put on her 'tab'.

She'd have to do her best to make sure nothing of that sort happened.

* * *

><p>"You appearance makes the task all but hopeless, but I will do my best to teach you! Let's see, let's make it... 100!<em> Yes!<em> If you can garner 100 customer requests, I'll waive your debt to the Host Club! And you'll be the Star Host for the girls who love "_Oshin"_!"

* * *

><p>She did not know how this happened. Staring blankly at Suoh-senpai, Haruhi could honestly not recall how this had come about. She had grumbled to herself and the older boy had just... gone off.<p>

Haruhi did not want to be a Host. Not only was that dangerous for her 'disposition' but...

... but this offer was too good to be true! It felt like the existence of her contract was burning against her mind. She hadn't turned it in to Ohtori-senpai yet. Maybe... maybe she could get out of it this way. Get through it and out of the way before they knew it. Maybe she should go back to the glasses wearing devil and make him add this in to the contract so that, in the case that she actually managed to gain these one hundred customers... she could be free.

Maybe.. hopefully...

* * *

><p>By the end of that third day, Haruhi had gone through and signed a new contract made by Ohtori. The new copy was resting in a still packed bag hidden under her bed in her current foster home. Haruhi rarely unpacked anything anymore. She treated most homes like one would treat a hotel that you were only going to be staying in for a little while. It usually unnerved some foster parents so she tended to hide the bag in a closet or under the bed and put one little knick knack on a desk so as to assume the image of a very organized student... but still have a tiny presence in the room.<p>

Oh course, it was now the fourth day of her service to the Host club... and she wasn't enjoying it at all. In fact, she was currently clutching the top of her head in slight agony as she stared at the raging Blond King.

All she had to do was set a stupid glass on a table? How could that have angered the other!

She watched blankly as Suoh picked up the empty and expensive glass that they were practicing with._ "Look!"_ He unnecessarily called for her attention with a frivolous gesture and then he set the glass down, hardly making a noise unlike the heavy thunk she had made. "When you put down your glass, cushion it with your pinky!" He raised the glass again and made a show of extending his pinky down as he set the glass. He did it three times as he continued his ranting (or was this what people called mentoring?).

"You eliminate the harsh sound and show more grace this way." Suoh said with a smug smirk. Haruhi blinked at the other for a moment before the words came to her.

"Oh... so this is so that you don't annoy the customers?"

_"No!"_ Suoh whipped the glass up from the table and brought it near his face as he posed with a blinding smile, "Observe! Don't I look classy?"

Haruhi had never met someone like this before. She could already feel a side of her face twitching in answer to the other's question. She had never thought that she would ever meet anyone like this (that anyone like this could possible exist was astounding), because no one like this would survive an hour on the streets. And even if he did, Haruhi would have gone out of her way to just not be within two city blocks of the other, because of the trouble he would bring without doubt.

She stood and silently watched the other keep going through tips and motions and mechanically she followed the other's instruction when told to. This was, without doubt, even stranger then when she had been conned in to being the Host Club's 'dog'.

Club activities had been delayed just for Suoh. He had, on a whim, told Ohtori to open the club an hour later then normal so that he could 'teach Haruhi-kun how to be a perfect host!' Of course, it had sounded a lot more stupid when he had said it, and Haruhi almost wished that Ohtori had denied the other this wish because this was driving her insane. There was only so much of Suoh's special brand of existence that she could take in one sitting.

... although that didn't matter anymore, because the first words she said to the other's expectant face sent him to a shadowy corner in tears.

Haruhi slapped a hand to her forehead and sighed out loud. Suoh was exhausting, and club hadn't even started! A double laugh behind her easily caught her attention as she stiffened and quick stepped forward and out of reach of the twin's arms. She whirled around to face them in time to see the startled, incomprehensible looks on their faces as their arms circled the empty space she had once been. The Hitachiin brothers did not pause very long and they stepped together and wrapped themselves up in each other so as to make it look like that had been the plan all along.

They both grinned not-smiles at her.

... Haruhi never liked their 'not-smiles' and not-anythings. She had noticed it on the first day really. The smiles and the looks that the two of them often sported on their faces had looked real enough. Or would, to the rich, pompous girls that passed through the Host Club. But Haruhi was unusually good at noticing lies and deceit. These two lied all the time. Their smiles put on the faces with mismatching, machine like cold eyes on their faces.

They just seemed soulless to her. On the streets, people like them would be the ones bundling up laundry detergent and chemicals and selling them to the poor addicts of the street for hard cash. They would have been con artists and Haruhi thought that they had a greasy presence.

"You upset Tono!" They laughed together, speaking in unison as they grinned at her. Haruhi frowned at the happiness she could feel coming from their words. Or the 'not happiness' as would be the case for them. "Although it isn't terribly hard." The twin on the left added, the left corner of his lips twisting up a bit more then his other half.

Haruhi tuned their continued chatter out with a sigh as she turned her eyes to 'The King' as he stared at the twins from his corner. A completely hurt and teary look on his sad little face. For a moment, Haruhi thought she felt pity for Suoh... before she remembered it was his fault that she was even here in the first place. She mentally shook her head as she mentally pushed down the vengeful person that she was and raised a hand out toward the other, her voice beckoning the other back. "Y.. your teachings have really started to help, Suoh-sempai..."

... and she watched the blond king fly back on to his feet, as if he hadn't been extremely emotionally hurt a moment ago.

Yes... the Host Club was exhausting. How was she going to last to the end of the week, let alone multiple years?

* * *

><p>The end of the week did come, of course. It came with the knowledge that she had become so ingrained in the background of the club that no girl would ever even think about requesting to spend time with Haruhi at a table. Haruhi sighed for her wasted time and the hope of getting out of here sooner. It was a bit inevitable, though. Even the rest of the Host Club hadn't really taken it seriously. The twins had tried to grab her glasses to prove a point.<p>

Of course, Haruhi had quickly ducked away from their reaching arms again.

Servicing the Host Club wasn't so bad once the novelty started to edge away from herself. Suoh started to finally pay more attention to his clients (especially that red-brown haired girl that kept glaring at Haruhi. Once Suoh started to pay her more attention, the glares had stopped). The Hitachiin twins had even stopped minding her so much as they continued to play their games with their clients.

The only ones that noticed her after the second week were Ohtori (who made sure she continued to do her job) along with Haninozuka-sempai and Morinozuka-sempai. The tall and little host (respectively) were always there. It was nice to be acknowledged, of course. But Haruhi didn't like the way that they... watched her. Watched her as if they thought something was wrong with her but they didn't know what it was.

Haruhi was very careful around them and Ohtori because of it. They couldn't find out. Never.

* * *

><p>One day they were in the tropics (or the decoration of the third floor music room was of the tropics). Ohotri had told her that day that they had gotten a 'costume' for her to wear... but then he reached out and plucked up one of her too skinny arms (and she had frozen solid with terror, her heart almost drowning out his voice as he commented that she was far too skinny to look good enough for a topless outfit. And told her she could remain in her uniform before he walked off) and long after he had let go Haruhi still felt the itching feeling of touch.<p>

Ohtori scared her deeply. First compared to the twins. And then Haninozuka and Morinozuka. The one that ended up least bothering her in the end was Suoh-sempai. Which was more then a shock to herself when, one time he asked her to buy more commoner's coffee and she hadn't frozen up when they bumped shoulders.

Of course, maybe her lack of reaction was scary enough.

* * *

><p>She had been working for the Host Club for a month now. Things had almost gotten repetitive...<p>

... until they had decided to have a 'Dance Party'. A Christmas one, at that (although Haruhi was rather sure that it wasn't actually anywhere near Christmas yet). Haruhi felt unmoved by it (Christmas and parties weren't her thing anymore. The foster families had tried, but nothing felt right with anyone). And even as they all pulled themselves aside and fussed over a girl, a Kanako Kasugazaki from Class B.

Her story could be a bit moving. A fiance that didn't pay her enough attention...

But Haruhi didn't care. She didn't want to involve herself with the Host Club any more then she had to. That was her plan, after all. Don't involve herself with the Student Body. Stay away from the drama and focus on staying in the school.

Ohtori pulled her aside that day and spoke to her. She was required to be at the ball, and a suit was going to be provided for her so that she blended in more. She was mostly going to be there to watch the tables and clean up after the Guests. Or that was what Ohtori essentially said to her. The grounds for this part of her contract worked well enough for her. She was perfectly fine with what was being asked of her.

... maybe she'd be able to stealthily sneak some food from the snack table.

* * *

><p>The material of the suit was heavy. The suit was brown, which went with her hair... that Ohtori had made the Hitachiin twins fix her hair. That had almost made her have a panic attack, actually. Them being close to her with sharp objects. But the twins (it was really just Hikaru) had instead brought in a professional and sent her to a corner with them to fix her hair to make her look presentable.<p>

The woman had been nice. Brown hair, sensible cut and a nice smile. She spoke quietly and soothingly to Haruhi which eased her anxiety... somewhat. The fringe that covered her eyebrows and most of her eyes were gone now, and it left her feeling too... vulnerable. Nothing to hide behind. The lady cut it short in the back and got rid of the shaggy quality of her hair. She had even put layers in.

With her hair cut, just an hour before the event had started, she had wandered back to Ohtori for her suit... and he had paused and looked at her with the new hair cut before he silently passed the suit to her.

Which led to where she was, hovering off to the side of the fancy table that had all the condiments and what not on it. "..." She had no words to express the utter... lack of being in good spirits she was in right now. It might be because she was so close to a table of amazing looking food, but not able to touch it. Or it might be the fact that the female population far outnumbered the male population...

A girl or two came up to her, questioned her about what was on the table and she pointed out what the best things were. Two girls had even come to her for a dance (so, so shy. Haruhi almost felt bad about turning them down because she couldn't dance).

... and it didn't take long for everyone to notice that all of the other Hosts but Tamaki Suoh had mysteriously disappeared for a moment.

That was when she arrived. The red-haired girl that had been giving her funny looks for a while.

"... Haruhi-kun." She greeted the other almost demurely as she appeared at Haruhi's side. Haruhi turned her head and looked over (and slightly up) to the other. Haruhi nodded her head but didn't speak a word. The other girl's eyes tightened for a moment before she continued on, "I am Ayanokoji, class 3-A."

"Good evening, Ayanokoji-sempai." Haruhi greeted the other, ducking her head slightly in a small, almost bow. The tightness around the other's pretty eyes relaxed a little at the respectful title that Haruhi had given her and a nice smile spread across her lips.

The older woman pushed some of her long hair back over her shoulder, still smiling as she spoke again, "Haruhi-kun, would you come and walk with me?"

Haruhi frowned, pressing her lips together as she glanced to the table. The food was practically gone, and she had been steadily cleaning it as the dishes were finished. There was really only the punch that was it's own fountain along with a few other snacks. All of those were in large amounts so she nodded, not seeing any harm in it.

They stepped outside of the large window-doors that led to the courtyard that was right next to the hall. Haruhi easily fell in to step with Ayanokoji and in silence, followed her on her 'walk'. Suoh and Ohtori had pounded it in her head to be nice to all of the guests. And since this woman was obviously a guest, she had no right to really refuse it (that, and Ohtori said if this was all smoothly pulled off, then her hourly pay would be doubled for this night, and for five hours... well, she was more then willing to put her best foot forward).

They had long since passed out of the light and into some secluded part of the garden before the girl's sanity seemed to snap...

She dropped her burgandy (and very expensive looking) elbow purse on to the grass and rubbed it in, staining it with a heeled foot. Haruhi recoiled at the sudden and violent action as Ayanokoji continued to violently... deface herself. She used her hands and smeared her make up around and messed up her own hair.

Ayanokoji looked like she had been violated.

... and Haruhi put two and two together and felt her stomach drop out as everything went cold.

No.

No._ No. Nononononono!_

Haruhi turned tail and tried to run. But Ayanokoji's hand shot out and grabbed Haruhi's elbow in a grip that physically hurt and pulled her back. A soft cry escaped Haruhi as Ayanokoji used her higher body weight to fall on to of Haruhi and on to the ground. The weight and harsh landing had hurt!

Haruhi was still gasping for air when Ayanokoji moved and straddled Haruhi's thin waist. But Haruhi only got enough strength to move by the time Ayanokoji had swiftly unbuttoned her coat and was going for the vest and dress shirt.

... Haruhi honestly couldn't believe that this was happening. How the hell had this happened? Haruhi's quick protests were going unheeded (her protests and please and_ please don't do this Ayanokoji_!). Haruhi reached up, swiftly deflecting the other girl's attempt to divest her of her shirt. This situation was inane, but all of the rich bastards of this school were all missing more then what was healthy in the sanity department. Ayanokoji didn't even have a reason for this!

Reluctant would be a good word to describe what Haruhi was feeling. She didn't want to hurt the other, in fear of the wrath that it would induce from the other (or just Ayanokoji's parents). That and... and this wasn't the street. On the street, no one runs and tells on the other when they got the snot beat out of themselves.

The street had to be left on the street.

... Ouran was another world entirely.

"No!" Haruhi felt the sharp burn of the cold air hit her chest as Ayanokoji finally got tired of the wrestling of their hands and just ripped the shirt open. The buttons had gone flying and they scattered over the stone pathway they were on.

Both girls froze.

One frozen in the sheer terror over the fact that she had been seen and discovered (and she was probably as disgusting and as alien as she thought herself to be). And Ayanokoji was just frozen in sheer shock of it all for the unwarranted discovery. Haruhi didn't move, couldn't move as Ayanokoji reached out and grabbed her almost nonexistent breasts, confirming that they were real, and not some prank hidden behind a 'barely there' bra. Ayanokoji didn't move for a long moment as she just stared down at Haruhi, still touching her just because of the pure shock of it all..

"You.." Ayanokoji choked on her words and Haruhi shook under her. She couldn't breath. Haruhi was just so scared (and her thoughts ran rampant. She did not think it would go over well if she tried to make Ayanokoji 'disappear' in to the street world...) that she couldn't do more then sit still and shake.

"... you're a girl... Haruhi-chan."

Haruhi felt her eyes burn, even though no tears fell as her body quivered. She tried to speak, opening and closing her mouth a few times before she closed her eyes and hid her face in her hands, "P.. please... don't tell anyone!"

_How had this happened? So easily... she had been guarding this for years..._

"You're a girl!"

_... for years... this was a relief and a terror._

"Please!"

Ayanokoji hauled Haruhi up by the grip that she had on the collar of Haruhi's shirt, and she slapped away the hands that hid Haruhi's face, making the younger boy.. no, girl! Look her in the eyes. "What the hell do you think you're doing? Are you doing this to just get close to the Host Club? Are you some kind of.. .of... _whore_?"

At the word 'whore'... it was like something just.. 'snapped' inside of Haruhi. The fear and terror washed away and all that was left was the feeling of... cold. The feeling of nothing at all, really. Haruhi's hands snapped forward and she roughly grabbed Ayanokoji's shoulders, making the older girl gasp at the sudden strength that seemed to have overtaken the underweight girl. _"I. Am. Not. A. Whore. You rich bitch." _Haruhi hissed at the other, unable to feel guilty over saying it at all. Unable to feel much at all, actually.

.. regression. Haruhi, in a sort of out of body way noticed that she had regressed. This wasn't her docile foster home attitude... and it wasn't her invisible Ouran person... this was... this was the Street. And she had brought it to Ouran.

Haruhi shoved Ayanokoji off of her and fluidly jumped to her feet as she looked down at Ayanokoji, who was sprawled out on the ground, still in some form of shock. "I am not a whore... you lowlife." Haruhi felt a sneer stretch across her face, and she must have looked terrifying and ugly, for even Ayanokoji had flinched back.

"I am paying back my eight million debt to the Host Club the only way that I can. I am the servant of the Host Club. I have a contract. And nothing in there states that I am or will be a 'whore'." Haruhi loomed over the other, before she brought one foot up and then down harshly on Ayanokoji's stomach. The girl choked and then gave a closed mouth scream as she quickly curled around her stomach to protect it from further pain.

Calmly, Haruhi pushed her shirt closed and rebuttoned her vest, and then her coat. The top part of her shirt was visible... and button-less. But she was decent again. Her thin, emancipated looking collar bone itself was visible for eyes to see. Haruhi frowned and looked around the clearing as she raised a hand to cover the offending looking part of her body, tapping her fingers idly on her throat as she moved. She spotted what she hoped was all of the buttons and she moved around, calmly picking up each and every button and pocketing them. She was good and sewing... she could probably fix this ridiculously expensive shirt and return it without Ohtori the wiser.

Haruhi finished collecting the buttons, and found herself very calm and back to rights with her 'Ouran' personality. She needed to get back to the party, though... She looked back and down to Ayanokoji, who was done with her throws of agony.

"... you better clean yourself up, Ayanokoji. You look like a whore."

And Haruhi left.

* * *

><p>Haruhi got back to the party in time to see that most of the 'party' had moved outside in to the brightly lit courtyard. As she had been walking up, she had heard someone talking over the loud speaker about it being the last dance. Although, she seemed to have arrived after it was done, the music had stopped, after all, and the girls seemed to be heading off now.<p>

She moved and came to a stop next to Ohtori, who was writing something down on his clip board and she waited to be acknowledged to be told what she had to do now. After he had finished his writing, he lifted his head and turned to Haruhi... and froze.

It was only for a moment, but Haruhi could feel her hackles rise (and the Street instinct was screaming at her to run, because attention from this boy would only cause trouble) at the other's pause. It was only a moment before Ohtori continued on, the light shining in to his glasses in such a way that his eyes were impossible to see. "Haruhi-kun, this night's club activities are over. We're leaving the mess to the janitors. Go and say goodbye to the others and you're free to go home."

Haruhi couldn't help but blink stupidly (almost dully at the other) for a moment as she processed the strange request. She had heard stranger, of course... but Haruhi hadn't had to ever go and say goodbye to the others. Well, that was probably because they had all been in a small room on the third floor... and not spread out as they were now. Haruhi shrugged and murmured a formal goodbye to Ohtori before she turned and headed inside to where she could see the other hosts had gathered.

The twins had their arms around Suoh-sempai, and they had to be doing some merciless teasing to the other, because he had tears on his face. Morinozuku was standing near them with Haninozuka sitting happily on his shoulders. At least they were all gathered together, which meant there was less effort for her to go about and say her goodbyes, as Ohtori had bid her to.

Haruhi stopped next to Morinozuka and looked up to the tall third year even as the other looked down and stared at her (Haninzoku had turned and copied the other as well, and both of their stares made her flinch), "Ohtori-sempai told me to come here and say goodbye for now. I'll see you both next week." Haruhi turned to look at the suddenly silent Hitachiin twins and 'King. "Goodbye to you three, as well." She ducked her head toward them, their sudden silence making her feel like a.. like a...

... Like an alien.

Haruhi crossed her arms over her stomach and almost turned to left when Ohtori appeared at her side. "Haruhi-kun, please make sure to wash that suit and return it next week. It's machine washable. And remember, next Friday is the physical exams."

"Ohtori-sempai, I told you that on Friday I have a doctor's appointment. I won't be at school that day. I'm going to be having my physical at the same time as well." Haruhi pointed out to the other. Ohtori paused before he checked a few papers down on his clipboard. He nodded his confirmation.

"Well... goodbye." Haruhi told the silent group at large before she left to go to her locker.

She silently hoped that there was no storm brewing on the horizon. Not with Ayanokoji, and hopefully not with the Host Club itself and their strange and new attentive silence.

* * *

><p>AN: Once again, OHHC doesn't belong to me. This is just for fun. This chapter came out pretty quickly once I got inspired... I hoped everyone liked it. I did notice that Ayanokoji doesn't seem to have a first name (or maybe last name?) If she does, could someone find it for me or suggest a name for her? Because this isn't the last she'll be seen.


	3. Chapter 3

Speed of Light  
>Chapter 3<p>

* * *

><p>Fujioka was a commodity. A rare animal on display in the halls of Ouran. Whispers of the commoner traveled the halls even before the other was due to arrive. This was a very rare occurrence, when a poor person, under scholarship, was allowed attendance in to the school. But all the same, despite the uniqueness of the situation the other was merely a new commodity for the school to eventually grow bored of and leave alone once it had proved boring. Nothing more and nothing less.<p>

Kyoya had kept an eye on the other male within minutes of the other walking on to campus for the first time merely for that reason. New things were meant to be looked at and understood and then fall in to the grand scheme of things. Especially with his plans.

Most commoners and their commoner schools made friends fast and fell in to tight knit groups that defied social decorum and logical attitude based on business deals and transactions. Kyoya waited for this to occur with Fujioka. His vague browsing in to Psychology because of Tamaki made him step back and watch for this occurrence. He had observed Ouran Academy last year as well for the same reasons, really. His brush with psychology often gave him the edge he needed with his business deals within the school itself.

He predicted that Fujioka would feel like an outcast within his 1-A classroom and during lunch, the other would seclude himself to the grounds of the school and search out the poorer part of the rich population and find his peers.

No such thing.

The other secluded himself entirely. And Kyoya hated it when things went different then he expected.

After lunch, and moving back to his classroom from the restroom that he had visited, Kyoya felt someone walk right in to his back. The force itself was small and Kyoya could tell that the person was smaller and lighter then himself because he had barely felt it at all. He expected it to be another girl who had decided to 'talk' to him and he took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Was it already time for his Host club persona? There was a mumbled excuse from that person even as he turned around and looked down.

Big glasses and bad hair. That was Kyoya's first impression of Haruhi Fujioka's physical presence. Those glasses, old and scratched and too old to be fashionable obscured most of Fujioka's face as the other stepped back and looked up at Kyoya. Kyoya could tell that the other had a startled face, even with those ridiculous glasses on. "Excuse me?" Kyoya raised an eyebrow at the other, unable to help but be annoyed at the other.

This commoner was a disgrace to the school. He was hideous and he stood out like green mold on bread.

Fujioka flinched and bowed his head, clearing his throat to speak again, "I am very sorry for running in to you, Sempai." He didn't raise his head again until a long moment after his spoke apology. Kyoya stared down at the other, tilting his head to the side as the other's voice ran through his head. Fujioka's voice was light, airy... maybe even whimsical. It didn't fit his appearance at all.

Kyoya watched the other fidget nervously again before he nodded his acceptance of the apology. Fujioka relaxed and Kyoya turned and left the other to do his own business. The voice had been a surprise, but nothing major. Nothing that could warrant any more attention to the other.

The third Ohtori son didn't expect anything more from Fujioka.

Kyoya had swiftly lost interest in the rare animal that had entered the halls after that incident. He was a year ahead of the other and Fujioka was not a woman to walk in to the Host Club. The other had no reason to exist for him, and Kyoya had calmly deleted the profile he had started to make of the other and merely reduced Fujioka to a foot note in the depths of his iPad where the rest of the C classes and such went. Fujioka was another lost name and presence.

Until the other fell in to debt with the Host Club.

Kyoya could marvel over it all for a moment, a mere moment. Such an unlikely person falling in to such an unbelievable situation. It was strange, eerie and he believed Tamaki would call something as coincidental as this as 'Fate'.

* * *

><p>Kyoya could honestly say that Fujioka, through more exposure of the other, was becoming more likeable. The other's appearance bothered him to a rather high degree (his aesthetic tastes in company had been thoroughly combed through from exposure to the Host Club and the young rich women of high society), but with more exposure Kyoya was starting to see the other's strong work ethic and business sense.<p>

No one else, in all his deals with the students of Ouran, had ever asked for a contract before.

* * *

><p>Fujioka was in debt. Very high debt. Kyoya had a private investigator find everything he could on Fujioka. It was always best to know everything about one's employee. Kyoya had calmly remade the other's profile on his iPad and settled the other down in to it just under the other Host Club members. The other was an Orphan, tragically. And had been passed around in the system for years and years without being able to settle in to a home.<p>

Kyoya checked the dates of the other's start in to the system and checked the hospital records that the other had had (ironically the other had gone to an Ohtori hospital when he had been attacked as a child). And then there had been the therapist visits afterwards that had been graciously paid for by the current foster parents at the time.

He checked the notes from the session. Nothing significant. The therapist had noted that the other had mostly forgotten the attack itself. The attacker was never caught, since the man had ran away when a group of people had come to see what the screaming had been about.

The other's files were relatively small. Fujioka was healthy, as the others records stated. He also had a small bank account that the other had had for a few years. Since it was mostly just deposits that the other was putting in, Kyoya approved of the other preparing to settle their debt. Since the other was doing as much as they could to settle his family's debts, Kyoya figured he could stop hovering over the other so much to make sure the other didn't try to run off and not repay the Host Club for that vase.

He read the footnote in Fujioka's file. If the other couldn't settle down with the current family that he was placed in, then he would be sent to a home for children to stay with until he finishes High School. Only, this place that the other would be sent to was placed rather far from Ouran Academy as it was. With the Fujioka's records, Kyoya doubted that Fujioka would find family where he currently was. Actually, the other probably should have been sent to a home a long time ago.

He paused and checked the names of Fujioka's parents.

... a famous lawyer...

Kyoya taped a pen against his knee and raised his eyes to observe the Host Club.

... he'd think on this later.

* * *

><p>Fujioka had senses like an animal, Kyoya noticed that. He flinched and ducked and tried to be as unassuming as possible. He had watched the other purposely slouch in to a horrible posture. And stay there. For the entire session of the Host Club even though he had walked through the halls with such nice posture. With a little work, the other could possibly fit in rather well within these halls but he chose not to.<p>

Didn't the other realize that acting as he was only made him stick out all the more? Or was he counting on it? By being so different and lowly did he expect the school to ignore his existence? Kyoya tossed his assumptions around in his head and wrote a few of them out in to the footnotes of Fujioka's profile in his iPad that he normally kept on hand.

The longer he observed the other... the more time he devoted his thoughts to his employee. It was as if the other was a puzzle that he needed to figure out. What was driving the other to be as he was?

But all the same, he watched Fujioka dodge the twins and nervously flutter around the edges of Tamaki's reach and Hunny's hugs. Yes, the other had senses like an animal and Kyoya wanted to know how the other got them... and why the other needed a sixth sense of other people in the first place.

* * *

><p>He didn't know what prompted himself to grab hold of the other's arm and lift up the skinny appendage. He had thought that the other would look good in costume and help accent the tropical look that the Host Club was sporting at the moment, but really looking at the other's body now said otherwise. The other was slim, certainly. But it was too slim. The other's baggy purple sweater that had basically become the other's uniform since the boy wore it every day, hid a lot of that from view, but the big sleeves couldn't hide the feeling of touch as he held on to the other's skinny forearm.<p>

Kyoya didn't think the other was as healthy as his medical profiles said. Someone at a proper weight was not this skinny.

Kyoya didn't touch people very often. Rarely, even. He didn't know what really made him reach out and grab hold of the other's weak body. But judging from Fujioka's response, not many people reached out to do so.

... at least, not in a friendly fashion. Abuse? Neglect?

He'd figure it out eventually, even though he was loathe to wait for more clues.

* * *

><p>Haruhi Fujioka was skinny. That was Kyoya Ohtori's first thought when he saw the other boy after his disgustingly shaggy hair was cleaned and cut. It didn't help that, while the new hair cut did it's best to try and make the other teen more like the rest of the 'Upper Class' students of Ouran Private Academy... well, it really only seemed to draw attention to the other's hollow cheeks and thin neck.<p>

The other looked fragile and easy to break. Weak, really. Kyoya absently noticed that Hunny and Mori did not seem so surprised by Fujioka's skinniness. They had probably noticed since the beginning. Kyoya hadn't been the only one to keep an eye on the other as the weeks continued to go by. It would make sense, really, that those two would notice. With their strength and moral codes gained by a life time of Martial Arts... well, it just made sense.

Kyoya checked Fujioka's school medical file, the one that all students had to submit to the office before attendance. The records had said that the other's weight was on the skinnier end of the average of the student body that was Fujioka's height and age. Even if it certainly didn't look like it. Fujioka looked more then just underweight or underfed... he looked starving. And thinking back, Kyoya supposed that the other had looked like this for a while, even if he had never paid much attention to the other's looks then a passing attempt to dress the other up in costume (as was Tamaki's wishes).

Maybe he should have been concerned when he thought the other was 'too skinny' even with that commoner sweater on. The thick material had made the other seem better then what he obviously was.

But it was the eve of the party, and Kyoya had no time for such distractions.

It was only after Kanako Kasugazaki and Toru Suzushima had been properly reunited via Tamaki's clever (self righteous and rather foolish and unnecessary were Kyoya's real thoughts of the matter) plan that Kyoya found his earlier lack of curiosity rather... painful, when he saw Haruhi Fujioka once more at the end of the party.

That too thin neck led down to a jutting collar bone and spindly, barely there shoulder muscles from what he could see. The shirt looked a bit ripped up and there was a lack of buttons. Even when distracted by the other boy's pure... 'thinness', he still noticed the signs of violence. Of struggle or of assault. Kyoya felt his grip around his clipboard tighten to the point where the knuckles in his fingers ached and he itched to pull out his iPad and find out just where Fujioka had wandered off to have such a thing... happen.

Because there was dirt near the end of his jaw, and some hovering around the knees and elbows of his pants. And maybe a forming bruise on the side of his neck. Fujioka had nothing to gain from injuring himself. He couldn't get out of his contract that way and Kyoya had come to understand that the other's business sense was a lot like his own. He honored his end, after all.

... so, who had decided to attack his employee?

Kyoya carefully directed the other (somewhat oblivious or naive or in shock... boy and for a moment Kyoya feared the worst) to go inside and bid the others goodbye. When Fujioka turned away, Kyoya slid his iPad out and on top of his clipboard and expertly accessed the security feeds from the campus from within the last hour.

It was almost too easy to find it.

Kyoya pressed his lips, squinting at the violent assault Ayanokoji acted out. He watched the woman bring Haruhi down to the ground. The security camera was rather far from where the two were at, and the details were slightly grainy, but Kyoya could make out exactly who they were and what was happening. He glanced to the time of the footage as Ayanokoji's body blocked Haruhi from view as they grappled on the ground.

And then they froze.

Kyoya watched Haruhi shove Ayanokoji back after the other boy pulled his shirt back together from where the other woman had pulled it apart. And Kyoya felt a distinct thread of satisfaction over the fact that Haruhi wouldn't take an assault just laying on the ground, and that the other boy would defend himself (when had he considered the other 'Haruhi' instead of 'Fujioka'?). Haruhi was essentially his employee and it was satisfying to know that the other could take care of himself. It was satisfying... as equally as it was sending him in to a rage that someone had dared to try and hurt someone that worked for him. Kyoya certainly knew how precarious the Honor Student's position was in the school.

The third Ohtori son saved the footage to his iPad as he turned on his heel and walked in to the hall to join the others.

There would certainly be retribution for this.

The Host Club itself was egotistical, self-righteous and narcissistical... but they were almost a family. And Haruhi was a member of the Host Club, and they would look out for all of their members. Especially over the weakest one of them.

* * *

><p>"... I never noticed that Haruhi-kun was so... skinny..." Tamaki said faintly as he watched Haruhi close the door, leaving the ball room behind. Kyoya fell in to place next to the blond's side, placing his iPad on top of his clipboard once again even as he heard Kaoru and Hikaru start to grumble agitatedly about the status of Haruhi's clothing. He had been the last one to really see Haruhi before the other had left on table duty for the party. Of course Tamaki, in his busy way, hadn't noticed.<p>

He cleared his throat, and gained the attention of the group.

Kyoya watched them all for a moment, taking them all in. From Hunny's watchful, mature gaze to Tamaki's faintly lost and concerned expression. "There is a reason for Haruhi-kun's... 'state'." Kyoya said, not even paying attention to the way Tamaki perked up over the fact that Kyoya had just used Fujioka's 'first name' like he had been. Tamaki was obviously taking that as a sign that Kyoya had accepted the commoner on some level.

... and on some level, he had.

Kyoya played the security footage for them, and watched Hunny and Mori's eyes go cold.

* * *

><p>The next morning they had a Host Club meeting... in Kyoya's bedroom, much to the second year's annoyance and very extreme anger. Kyoya pressed his pillow over his head further and resisted the urge to growl at them all as they tromped so noisily around his room and as Tamaki threw out his wild, inane ideas.<p>

Tamaki kept suggesting some form of revenge. Except expulsion from the Host Club wasn't hard enough.

Or, that was what Hunny and Mori's silence seemed to say.

Kyoya could reluctantly feel himself waking up. He peeked his head out from under his pillow fortress to view the time from his alarm clock. The hour was nine, so it wasn't as insanely early as possible. But he had been up till three in the morning and he still felt justified in his anger at being woken up. But even that was cooling over the fact of what the meeting was about.

Haruhi Fujioka was weak. Or that was what Hunny and Mori had come to view the teen as, considering their attitudes. Kyoya had rarely seen such a shared silence between the two. And this had to be one of the longest moments Hunny had ever gone through without being cutesy. The two third years were very protective of people that seemed weaker then them. Hunny had a special dislike for bullying as it was. But he normally went against bullying with suggestions, soft words and a adorable presence. But what Ayanokoji did was not bullying... it had been assault. So, Kyoya didn't really know how the other was taking this.

Kyoya didn't know about Mori (so much as assuming that the other viewed Haruhi as some kind of baby animal that needed protection, considering how much he loved animals) but Kyoya knew that Hunny's school of martial arts had made it an unspoken law to 'protect the weak'.

They hadn't protected weak Haruhi from the assault. And that was probably eating the tiny host up from the inside... in fact...

Kyoya sighed and pulled the pillow off of his head to turn and look to where Hunny was standing next to his bed, staring down at him with an intense look on his face. And Bun-bun was no where in sight of the little host's arms. Hunny's mouth twisted down in to a frown and Kyoya grunted, pushing himself up and on to his knees from off of his stomach before he stepped out of bed, drawing the attention of everyone in the room.

He knew for a fact that Hunny was even more of a terrible morning person then himself most of the time. But the other was taking this so seriously, that he obviously had to get up now. They all knew he had been listening to them as it was. Pretending to be asleep wouldn't help anyone anyway. And they all knew he had only moved once he had something in mind. And Kyoya did have something in mind.

"My family's police force will do a... personal investigation of Ayanokoji, Seika." Kyoya started as he stepped away from his bed calmly and he grabbed the shirt he had set out the night before and pulled it on to his naked torso. He adjusted the blue cotton sleeping pants he had on so they weren't so twisted. He toed off his socks so his feet could warm up on the wooden floors that were heated underneath.

He moved down the stairs from the loft that was in his room and moved to the couches where everyone was sitting. Everyone but Hunny, who followed him down the stairs from the loft room that his bed was at. "After that, we'll see what Haruhi-kun wants." Kyoya turned a sleepy, hateful glare to Tamaki before the other could scream a protest, instantly quelling the other.

"This is more serious then simple school matters. If Haruhi wants to prosecute, then we'll back him up. If he doesn't want this leaking out... we'll exact a revenge of our own." Even if it was up to Haruhi... Kyoya was a vengeful, spiteful and greedy being.

No one messed with what belonged to him. And until Haruhi paid off his debt, his soul essentially belonged to Kyoya. And the other was in good hands because Kyoya would make sure that no one would come to hurt the other. Only Kyoya had that honor, and his morals wouldn't allow such a thing (and Hunny and Mori wouldn't allow it either).

"On Monday, we'll discuss this private matter with Haruhi-kun before Club Activities... till then, we shall plan retribution, even if it won't be necessary. And..." Kyoya paused and let his words hang in the air as he stepped back and looked at the Host Club.

Tamaki was hanging on to his every word (the other did tend to take his words as gospel most of the time) while the twins themselves looked a little bored of this all. This was only a passing fancy to them. Mori was blank faced but Hunny... Hunny looked dissatisfied.

"I want to check up on Haruhi." Hunny said after a moment of Kyoya watching him. "Give me his address."

Kyoya paused before he glanced off to the side at the entire Host Club.

"... You'll spook him. Wait till Monday." Hunny's lips twisted and his eyes tightened. "... Haurhi-kun doesn't like too much attention, I know you know this. You may even scare him more." He watched Hunny's fists clench for a moment as the little blond host worked his jaw before he let out a big breath and looked away.

"We'll meet again on Monday. Now, all of you get out of my room."

"But _Kyoyaaa_!" Tamaki whined out and Kyoya felt his eyelid twitch. Oh... of course they were all staying over.

... lovely.

* * *

><p>Haruhi grimaced at herself in the mirror of the tiny bathroom of her current residence. This place was not 'home' because she knew it, felt that she wouldn't be staying longer then the allocated time that she was given as per normal. But looking at herself, fresh from her morning shower (that was at the crack of dawn, no less)... well, Haruhi felt herself blessed that, despite her aches and pains from the night before with Ayanokoji, her face remained unbruised and unmarked.<p>

She would still be able to go peddle to the American tourists. She looked nicer now that she really looked at herself (and that was hard, because she had to shove her face close to the mirror to really see the details). She looked more pitiable now. And loathe she was to use that to trying to pull bigger tips from tourists, well... maybe she'd be able to put a little something more in to her account looking like a very weak young boy. She still looked very much like a middle school student. Which wasn't so surprising considering she had only been in high school for roughly a month.

Ghosting her hands over her ribs, Haruhi sighed before turning to her clothes. Khaki tan shorts and a worn white shirt with a folded blue collar. The shirt was actually part of her middle school gym uniform. The shorts were something she picked up from a thrift shop. She was thankful that most of the adults she happened to get settled with for a time did feel the need to buy her clothes. Haruhi just tended to find the cheapest place to buy used clothing that was relatively nice. She was normally able to save some money that way so she could pocket something.

Placing her glasses on her face, Haruhi inspected her lanky appearance in the mirror. She wasn't lanky in a tall sense... more like she was bony and short. Sighing, she ran her fingers through her hair and slipped out of the bathroom silently.

In the dawn light in her bedroom (which still looked like the guest bedroom she moved in some off months ago) she packed a day bag. It was a casual single strap bag that hung across her chest. It was blue, and had a patched up bottom. This bag had belonged to someone at her last middle school. Half of the bottom had fallen out and she had pulled it out of the trash and had patched it up. It had lasted a year so far and Haruhi had high expectations for it.

Once fully packed with her normal English books and all of the remaining bits of her homework, Haruhi went ahead and padded down to the kitchen while shoving her socks of the day in to her pocket. In the kitchen she made a sandwich and grabbed a few packaged snacks while went in to their own compartment in her bag. Once packed, she paused and looked around before looking in to the cupboards and pulling out a muffin. There was a whole boxful of them in there, all individually wrapped.

Haruhi left the house like a ghost, waiting to open that muffin until she was outside. With that done, she started to walk. It would take some time to walk the distance, but Haruhi had left early enough for this. Setting her pace and checking her old (stolen) sports watch on her wrist, she prepared herself to start her ten minute mile walking... for the next ten miles. She would reach her destination (a rather famous shrine) by late morning.

* * *

><p>Haruhi knew how to gain the attention of the English speaking tourists without screaming for it. There were a few benches near the entrance of the shrine. One that was used for the bus and the other two stone benches were part of the shrine property. So she settled herself on to a stone bench near the entrance and pulled out her homework...<p>

And all of the English books that she had brought with her. She propped a foot up on her knee and angled her leg so that she essentially created a desk out of her lap for her binder. At her hip she placed an English dictionary and by her knee she put an English phrasebook and grammar book. Artistically placed so neither title was covered up. It helped that she wore such neutral colors and that the covers of the books were so neon bright.

... and from there she did homework, hunched over her lap like a studious student. People often looked to her without meaning to. And the English speakers would undoubtedly glance to the books before back to her.

Not everyone gave her tips for asking questions. She always answered to the best of her ability. The trick of it was to not expect anything, and then someone would surprise her with being grateful via cash. She didn't draw in much this way... but at least it was something. And it was better then begging and Haruhi... Haruhi with all of her desperation... she still had her pride. She refused to lower herself to that level, even if she was already pretty low already.

She stayed put all the way to early evening, and had made a few hundred yen, while also having a Tourist and family group bring her in to the shrine to act as a tour guide. That normally wasn't asked for, but she had already finished her homework at that point and she taught the group how to make offerings, pray and write down their wishes. She had gotten a decent tip from that (the family seemed happy enough to give it to her, too). But once it was late enough, Haruhi checked her watch before she readied herself for her power walking. She was headed home now.

Halfway home a car drove up to the side of the street and she was pulled in to the back of a limo.

* * *

><p>Haruhi lashed out. It was blind, white hot panic because she could feel the hands (on her shoulders, her right arm was pinned and her-her!) and she shrieked, before turning the shriek in to a snarl as she bit hand and then an arm and then her arms were free and her foot had connected with something soft-!<p>

And she tumbled off on to the floor of the car...

... and a shrieking voice made it through the white noise that had been ringing through. And it wasn't her, because she was clenching her jaw together. Haruhi froze in place, stilling like an animal caught before headlights as she assessed the people around her.

Two men on the seats behind her. One pressed against the door opposite to the one she had been pulled in through, clutching his hand an arm and the other one was crouched, watching her from behind dark sunglasses. Poised and waiting and insanely large and muscled.

He looked professional.

Haruhi slowly turned her head when she saw that the man wasn't doing anything at all and she looked ahead to the feet that she had fallen in front of

"... Ayanokoji..."

Ayanokoji sat before her, although the other wasn't as composed as she normally was. Her eyes were wide and her mouth hung open as she finally stopped her shouting (whatever she had been shouting about). Her lips quivered before she shut her mouth with the hard click of her teeth. She let out a deep breath of air and leaned back further in to her seat. She glanced over Haruhi's head, and Haruhi heard the man in a suit sit down.

"... Fujioka-san... if you would take a moment, please sit." Ayanokoji said after a moment, and Haruhi pressed her lips together, almost biting them as she protested the pros and cons of moving. No one was touching her down here, or hurting her.

But at the same time her stomach was clenching so hard it hurt. Her whole body felt strung thin and tight and she was ready to run and move... Sitting down here put her at a big disadvantage. She could get pinned. She was within kicking rage. She could be taken out so damn easily where she was. Stiffly, jerkily, Haruhi pulled herself from the floor of the limo.

There were seats at the back, behind the driver and to the left and rights of the side of the limo. The space was large enough for someone to be able to lay down comfortable on the floor, but close enough that everyone was, relatively, within arms reach. Haruhi slid to the right seat. Her left arm hurt, and it hurt bad. She didn't know how awful it was, but it wasn't broken. But if the man in the suit went to grab at her, he'd grab the arm that was already hurt, and she could poke out an eye with her good arm.

Ayanokoji cleared her throat loudly, and brought Haruhi's observing eyes back to her. Or, for the most part. She could still see the two men out of the corner of her eyes. But she was looking at the lesser threat, Ayanokoji, now.

"I have... considered the words that we exchanged, Fujioka-san." Ayanokoji started, much more controlled in her voice and posture now then she had been before. Her back was straight, and stiff and her shoulders back. She looked prim and proper and Haruhi hunched forward just a bit more because of of it.

Haruhi didn't speak, and Ayanokoji shifted uncomfortably for a moment.

"I...I want you to explain it, a little more. " Ayanokoji spoke softly, near close to mumbling. Haruhi shifted and leaned back further in to the seat. She didn't know where this was going, but through Ayanokoji's current posture... and request, she didn't seem to be here to really hurt Haruhi.

... The other already knew. Haruhi couldn't deny it at this point. But...

But she didn't want to talk. She didn't want to tell Ayanokoji anything. Her gut, her instincts, was telling her that the other was going to hurt her. The other had tried before. But...

but after the other knew she wasn't... wasn't a boy...

Haruhi pressed her lips together and stared at Ayanokoji... the words were not coming out... and Ayanokoji merely stared back.

The limo was moving.

"... Please, Fujioka-san... I want to understand."

"And know that I'm not fucking the boys in the club." Haruhi bit out, her voice low and harsh in the air. And any half-thought comparisons she hadn't even thought to make about herself to Ayanokoji drew to the surface. Haruhi was not a lady. She wasn't an anything.

Because she wasn't an anything... and it wasn't... this shouldn't matter.

Ayanokoji's face was twisted, nose wrinkled at Haruhi's sharp retort.

"What do you want, Ayanokoji?" Haruhi spoke after a long moment of silence.

Ayanokoji took an even longer time to reply.

Ayanokoji spoke, her voice loud and clear as her eyes lifted away from Haruhi to look past the men in the back seat. Haruhi felt her stomach jump, and she bit the inside of her mouth as she did a full body twitch...

"I want you out of the Host Club."

Ayanokoji leaned forward.

"And I will help you. It is only fair, you are not a man."

Haruhi didn't know if she should agree with the other, she was a not-anything.

"So.. Speak. We have a deal to make."

... and Haruhi spoke. 

* * *

><p>AN: Well, this is chapter 3. Some plot developments are starting to show up now. The whole not Haruhi POV at the start of this chapter won't happen to often. I just wanted to show the shifting dynamics in the Host Club. And I've watched the OHHC live action and in that 'Seika' was Ayanokoji's name. So I used that. And if no one has noticed, Kyoya's iPad was from that, too. I haven't watched anything past the fourth or so episode, though. I was kind of hoping to incorporate some more elements from that. It's fun.

But on a quick note... I have a really tough semester for school right now. Two online classes, too. And I was finally able to get a job. And then there is my social time... I don't honestly have much time for writing, and this chapter was practically done when I hopped on to it today. So, anyone and everyone, don't expect anything for a while, or at least not until Spring break or my school load lightens up or something. Maybe if I got a tiny laptop or something I could take it with me and write when I get a spare moment... that actually sounds like a good idea. We'll see. I'm hoping to get another chapter out in a few months. I hope you lot enjoyed this chapter.


	4. Chapter 4

Speed of Light

Chapter 4

* * *

><p>"No."<p>

"It's all or nothing, Ayanokoji." Haruhi hissed back at the girl. The red head was pale faced and grimacing as if the very thought pained her as she reclined in her expensive seat. They still road in the limo that Ayanokoji had swept Haruhi up in and Haruhi just knew that they were driving around in circles now. They had passed by the same noodle place several times now. The locals had to be getting suspicious be now.

"No way in hell." The other woman hissed back.

Haruhi snorted and readjusted herself in her seat. She straightened her back and brushed her knees off briskly as she eyed the two guards that were still in the limo with them. Haruhi didn't bother to reply as she let the silence speak for herself.

Out of the corner of her eye she watched Ayanokoji's hands clench. A little longer, and the girl broke. Her shoulders drew up around her ears, all the more obvious due to the pink colored dress she was wearing. She made a rather unlady-like noise in the back of her throat as her slitted eyes focused on Haruhi with a vengence.

"I am not paying your debt for you. If _you_ think you can _con_ me—" Ayanokoji was on the path of a rampage and Haruhi cut her off by talking louder then the other.

"I'm not asking you to pay off my debt to the host club! Kyoya-sempai would smell foul play as it is. No, I need a job. You have connections. With a job, I can build up enough money to pay off my debts, and then I can safely leave the Host Club." Haruhi felt her lips pull back in some kind of snarky grin that must have unsettled Ayanokoji because the fierce expression that had been on her face had fallen away. Haruhi could only guess at what she looked like, her face felt numb as it was.

Haruhi threw one leg over the other and consciously did her best to mimic Tamaki in that instant as she threw her arms out and stretched them along the backs of the cushioned leather seating. Confident, she had to be confident. This was not her car or her riches but she would be king here. So, maybe having Tamaki hound her for so long enabled her to copy him so greatly (she ignored the part of her screaming not to call the blond by his given name, because there were better things to do). Haruhi needed to believe in herself to negotiate this.

… if she could swindle a high paying job out of Ayanokoji, she could split her profit half and half and put one part of it toward her Club debt and the other to the debts of her father and mother. This was perfect, it was too perfect for her to pass up.

And if it also constituted as revenge... well, Haruhi wouldn't fight such an assumption.

"Oh, Ayanokoji, is it not fair? You said that you wanted to help, did you not?" Haruhi let her voice croon in the air, doing her best to mimic some of the play she had seen the hosts do. It did not have the same effect, because a look of revulsion passed Ayanokoji's face. Not intended, but Haruhi could work with that. She stretched her grin wider as she leaned forward.

"It's the only way you'd be able to get me out of this club you want such a large part in." Haruhi brought her voice down low as she let her arms fall back to her sides and her face to fall in to it's normal, expressionless flatness.

And she waited and watched Ayanokoji. The conflict was easy to watch on the girl's face. Haruhi just needed her to realize that this was the only way, without having the other figure out about her other debts that the job would help pay. Without Ayanokoji finding another way to fix the situation.

"I … I..." Ayanokoji's voice failed her as she glued her eyes to the window.

She let out a hiss.

"Fine. You little _vagabond._"

Haruhi smirked—little vagabond indeed.

Ayanokoji could be the princess of her little harem. All Haruhi wanted was her freedom.

The red head didn't speak other then to order one of the body guards to tell the driver to make the return back now. Haruhi felt her gut seize up with ice before she forcibly calmed herself. They were going to Ayanokoji's posh house now, no big deal. No big deal at all. Haruhi didn't feel threatened at all, going to some unknown place with this rich girl that had assaulted her.

She was king here.

She. Was. _King._

Haruhi hummed to herself nonchalantly as she let her gaze watch the windows. She could watch Ayanokoji out of the corner of her eyes as she focused on the scenery and watched the street signs. She watched the buildings get bigger and more modern before they started to get smaller and older (at least they appeared older) and the buildings soon became further apart... until it was all just high brick or cement fence that blocked the view of the houses as they transformed in to mansions.

Haruhi stayed still, watched and waited as the car found the drive way it wanted drew up to the house. Three floors tall. Heavy influence of French and Russian architecture, if Haruhi wasn't mistaken about the decorative roofs and the wide windows. The car pulled up in front of small staircase that led to the door. The drive parked, and Haruhi stayed still because no one else moved.

The driver turned off the car and jumped out of the driver's seat and calmly hustled to the end door of the limo and held it open. Haruhi watched the short man do so. Once the door was opened, Haruhi stared at it and didn't move, despite being closest to the door.

"... get out. Fujioka." Ayanokoji hissed and Haruhi merely turned her head to look at her. She watched the red head for a moment before she tilted her head back and looked down at the other. Haruhi watched as the anger flashed behind the other's eyes and watched her face harden. Haruhi refused to move.

Ayanokoji eventually told her security (or were they baby sitters?) to get out of the car. And once they were gone, Haruhi remained seated. She would be last. Ayanokoji eventually got the message and removed herself from the car. Of course... she wasn't so careful stepping out and spitefully stepped all over Haruhi's feet. Haruhi hissed and jerked back her right foot, but her left foot was a victim.

… rich bastards.

Haruhi smoothly stepped out of the limo and took the door from the driver who startled in surprise. Haruhi slammed it shut and grinned when Ayanokoji winced at the loud noise. No, Haruhi was not happy with her, and they were no longer at Ouran. Haruhi would not be meek.

She was King here.

Ayanokoji said nothing as she evaluated Haruhi—and Haruhi thought that maybe the other was starting to understand the power plays that were happening now between the two of them. Of course, it was too late for the other as it was. Ayanokoji turned smartly on her heel and smoothly marched to the doors (well, Haruhi thought she was marching, what with the pace she set). Haruhi jogged after her until she caught up with the other and soon found herself inside the entry hall.

Burnt goldenrod and deep purples seemed to be the theme of the place. But Haruhi had no time to admire (or contemplating on acquiring something) as Ayanokoji rushed them through the house. They went up a stair case and through rooms and halls and they had left the baby sitters behind. Haruhi tried to slow the pace down, but Ayanokoji merely clamped a hand on her arm and held tight.

They burst in to a room and Ayanokoji shoved the door shut.

… it was a room fit for a princess. And Haruhi understood that she was now within the bowels of Ayanokoji's lair. She turned to the red head to find the spot the pink clad wannabe princess was empty. Haruhi stilled briefly before she followed the noise.

The open closet door showed a room at least five times the size of Haruhi's bedroom—and it was filled with clothes and shoes and purses. Racks and racks of them! They were color coded and sections and there was even a rack of school uniforms off to the side. "I will give you a job, Haruhi-kun." Ayanokoji spoke pleasantly as she shifted through a rack that was color coded black. Haruhi frowned and wondered what she was looking for even as she listened.

Ayanokoji didn't continue, so Haruhi spoke, "what is it that your parents do?" Where did all of this money come from?

"None of your business, Haruhi-kun." Ayanokoji was making her voice pleasant, and Haruhi wondered how much it hurt the other to force that much geniality in to her voice. But looking at Ayanokoji's face didn't give so much of a hint of how much Haruhi was sure that the other hated her. Haruhi continued to frown and stew in silence as Ayanokoji got to the end of the line of black and then found whatever she was looking for. She gave a pleased grin (that was more teeth then anything else) and pulled black dress with white parts off the rack. It took Haruhi a moment to place the white decorations.

Maid dress. (_Costume? Previous costume, maybe._.)

But Haruhi put two and two together.

"No way in hell." Haruhi grumbled as she glared at Ayanokoji. "No way. In. Fucking. Hell." The red head didn't seem to listen as she stepped in and just about shoved the dress in to Haruhi's chest. Haruhi dropped the offending piece of clothing to the floor and near snarled at Ayanokoji's smug face. The red head's smile was stretched painfully over her face and vicious as she watched Haruhi. This was why the other had suddenly turned so calm and helpful. She had been planning this humiliation!

"This is the quickest job I have for you... Haruhi-chan." Her high voice cackled and Haruhi barely resisted the urge to break her nose.

It took five deep breaths for Haruhi to calm down... until Ayanokoji spoke again, "and it's a perfectly suitable job for you, what with you being so poor!"

"On your knees, right where you belong with every other commoner, ready to adm—"

_That was it!_

Ayanokoji shrieked as Haruhi promptly tackled her to the floor—and Haruhi was quick to grapple for arms and wrists and Ayanokoji did something Haruhi did not expect. The red head didn't just lay there and accept the abuse in still shove. Oh, no. The red head writhed and Haruhi fought to balance to stay on top. The leverage was the only thing Haruhi had going for her. But she had it. Haruhi couldn't lose. Not when she was so much better, so much superior. Haruhi nearly crowed when she successfully gained control of one wrist and arm. With her other hand, Haruhi went for Ayanokoji's hair. It was free and lush and such an easy target.

She lost sight of Ayanokoji's other hand.

And Haruhi lost when Ayanokoji used her other hand to push up from the ground even as Haruhi entangled a hand in to that red hair. Their positions flipped and Haruhi found her back to soft carpet and Ayanokoji over head and the other bore down.

Haruhi lost the captured wrist even as Ayanokoji's weight became a crushing force on her chest and yanking at Ayanokoji's hair did nothing.

The two hands around her throat made Haruhi still.

She had lost, she had lost, she lost, she was at the other's mercy and the King had fallen—

Haruhi took in a painful breath of air as she released Ayanokoji's hair slowly. Haruhi didn't feel any pressure on her throat yet. But the fingers rested there in warning. And Haruhi understood the silent warning and let her hands drop to the floor as Ayanokoji panted above her. Her eyes narrow and focused and her teeth borne in snarl.

This was not the reaction of a rich kid. Or at least, not a defenseless one. Ayanokoji wasn't simply 'prey' after all.

Haruhi had lost this fight. She... she still needed to adapt.

"Haruhi-chan." Ayanokoji crooned, and Haruhi understood why Ayanokoji had shivered in revulsion when they had been in the limo and Haruhi had taken on that tone. "This is the only job I have for you, little vermin. Only girl servants are allowed within the mansion and you are not fit for hard labor. Wear. The. Dress." Her fingers flexed as if to emphasize her command. Haruhi sneered in return and the fingers clenched and held it longer until Haruhi smoothed her face.

"This is our deal, Haruhi-chan. Every day after club, you will come to my house and clean and cook and keep it with the other servants. You will get paid. I will be even generous and allow you to keep said job even after you leave the club if it will only make you leave faster. Is this agreeable?" Haruhi stared up at the other and she knew, deep down in her gut, that Ayanokoji's family had to be some kind of ruthless business tycoon family to have trained their daughter for something like this.

The fingers were merely resting again. Ayanokoji merely smirked down at her and waited for Haruhi to come to the only conclusion available. That soon, soon she would be donning that vile, disgusting garment and would be cleaning up after Ayanokoji. Just as Haruhi had waited for Ayanokoji in the limo, Ayanokoji waited for her.

Haruhi felt small and weak and suffocated and she trembled for a moment. She was not used to this.. this kind of power play. There was no blood here. At least, none from the body as Ayanokoji had backed her in to a corner.

She had gone like a lamb in to the lair of a devil. So confident. So cocky.

No, they hadn't really left the halls of Ouran with their pleasant faces covering the ugly people that were hidden behind geniality and grace.

"I want it in writing." Haruhi croaked.

* * *

><p>This was only a battle. Not a war. Haruhi could admit defeat for now.<p>

She would adapt. Haruhi would learn not to fall for the same mistake again.

The uniform was to be kept at Ayanokoji's house. Of course, Ayanokoji said she would make a better one then this flimsy costume. Haruhi had been hauled off of the floor by Ayanokoji who was bigger and stronger then Haruhi when not taken be surprise and was soon shoved off in to a car and driven home.

Haruhi didn't even have to tell them her address.

They already knew it.

* * *

><p>Haruhi made it home in time for a small dinner. She told them she had applied and gotten a job today. They were happy, because they had been worried so much with her disappearing off during the weekends that they had imagined all sorts of unsavory things. They had assumed that Haruhi had just been applying for jobs and going to interviews this whole time. What a smart young man they had, and they smiled together and some of the tightness left their faces.<p>

… Haruhi just felt sick.

And when going to bed that night, she just felt cold, too.

* * *

><p><em><strong>AN;** I'm not dead. Although I can say that I haven't kept up with Naruto in forever (I stopped reading during Sasuke's fight with.. ah, whats-his-name.. the old man with one eye that stole the Hokage spot. Yeah. My Naruto interest waned. I'll get back in to it when it's done and I can do a straight read through. But for now, if it's not already expected... At Rest is on Hiatus if anyone from there is reading this. As for Speed of Light, this might be shorter then normal, but I put OHHC on to listen to the Japanese last night and was inspired. This is hot off the press. Forgive any mistakes. RL has not been kind to me recently, so I don't know when updates are coming. It's just a moment of eventuality, really. So, I'll update when I can. But thank you all for the love, the reviews and the favorites. They mean more to me then you can imagine. Thank you.  
><em>


	5. Chapter 5

**Speed of Light**

Chapter 5

* * *

><p>In a place far, far away with a culture so far different from Japan, a man cried out after his daughter...<p>

* * *

><p>Haruhi had made her way to school, early as always. She had not slept well the night before, in fact, she couldn't even really tell if she had slept at all. It all seemed like a conscious daze that left her exhausted and achy. Today was the 'start' of another new phase in her 'new' life.<p>

The life of a maid at Ayanokoji's house. Haruhi felt sick just thinking of it.

But she trudged to school, mentally turning her focus to her weekend homework. She had made sure it was all safely packed in her school bag before leaving the house. She couldn't lose her scholarship, after all. Hopefully Ayanokoji didn't make her stay too late, considering that she needed time in her day to do homework. Maybe it would be best to start skipping lunch and fill that hour with homework? She'd have to test that out today.

Although she couldn't really afford to skip meals. And that left her grumbling even more as she continued the last little bit of the journey to school. She rounded the corner and spotted the gates in the distance. Sometimes she was really annoyed with how long it took to reach the damn school. Stupid rich bastards and their huge gates and ridiculously large schools that they felt needed to be gated in...

And there was a large crowd milling at the front gate.

There never was a crowd at the front gate. At least, not the walk in gate.

Haruhi slowed her approach down somewhat as she continued on. She was early, she didn't have to rush. She just needed to see what was going on...

Haninozuka-sempai and Morinozuka-sempai were standing at the gates. Well, Morinozuka was standing. Haninozuka was sitting on the taller teen's shoulders and waiting... cake.

There was seriously a small plate with a slice of cake on it... resting on top of Morinozuka's head! And Haninozuka was eating said cake!

Sometimes, Haruhi really didn't know how to feel about this illogical pair of people. They had to be the greatest of friends to be able to do something like that. Haruhi mentally sighed and continued on to the yellow throng at the gate where the girls had amassed around the two hosts. She wondered what the Host Club would be doing today. Haruhi stopped at the edge of the yellow mob with a grimace and she hoped that there was nothing too extravagant going on or her blood pressure would go through the roof.

Well, first thing that would happen today is that she would return the suit like she had been ordered and then...

She would return the suit, and then...

_Return the suit._

Haruhi froze in place, her eyes going wide as she stared at nothing. Return the suit. The hand around the handle of her briefcase bag tightened. The fake leather creaked pitifully under the strain as her heart started to pound in her chest. The suit... The suit! She had even gotten new, matching buttons and sewed them back in to place and she had forgotten it at the front door! It was miles away, she would never make it back! No... no! This couldn't be happening... It.. it..

Haruhi distantly knew that she shouldn't even be freaking out about this. It was so small.. so minor...

But how could she had forgotten?

And what more... how would this affect her? She wasn't going to be able to make it back in time. There was little more than an hour before classes but there was no time for a train (even if she was willing to fork over the money for such a thing) or even or running...

This was a terrible feeling. Terrible.

A heavy hand landed on her shoulder and Haruhi jumped. It was impossible for her eyes to get any larger, but she focused on the body in front of her. The blue coat and black tie and up and up... Haruhi blinked.

"Morinozuka-sempai..." Haruhi trailed off. He wasn't really looming over her on purpose. He was just that tall. Maybe it was really just the blond host that was looming, with his suddenly unreadable face.

"Haru-chan, why are you crying?" Haninozuka asked with that serious, not childish at all voice. With a voice that made Haruhi actually believe he was actually a few years older then her. Haruhi blinked, a hand coming up to her right eye. There was water there... She had been crying? She had been.

She was crying over that stupid suit! How embarrassing...

"A.. ah! It's nothing. I think I just got something in my eye." Haruhi automatically responded, flopping the sleeve of her sweater over her hand to swift dab at her face. Out of the corners of her eyes she could see the entranced faces of the girls surrounding them. A circle round the three of them as they murmured and cooed in that vaguely creepy fashion.

Of course, then she realized... "Don't call me Haru-chan!" She couldn't believe that the other was still doing that!

But... well, Haninozuka's face hadn't changed. In fact, he looked even more resolved then before. "Haruhi-kun." He finally said, "why are you crying?"

He obviously didn't believe her. And, well, Haruhi wasn't really the best of liars. And her nose, now that she noticed it, was stuff. Haruhi shifted back, to step away. Their looming over her was suddenly... so intense. It made her heart start to hammer again. But the movement was stifled when Morinozuka's grip merely intensified.

She needed space.

Haruhi trembled just for a second before blurting out—"I felt the suit at home. I just realized it and Ohtori-sempai told me to bring it in today..." She cut herself off.

She had actually said that. She could even feel the blood rushing to her face... how _embarrassing_!

"Ne, Takashi! Lets give Haru-chan a lift back home real quick." The little host sounded immensely pleased. And it took Haruhi a moment to realize what the other had said. And she trailed her gaze back from the ground to stare up at the two. She barely even noticed when Morinozuka had let her 'go'.

"Haninozuka-sempai—!" Haruhi started, but then the little host just leaned forward, grinning... and...

"Call me Hunny-sempai!"

"B-but.. Hanin—"

"_Hunny_-sempai!" Haninozuka cheerfully cut her off, and then there were hands on her shoulders and the crowd was parting and suddenly she was inside the back of a limo and she had no clue how she had gotten in. Settled carefully on some seats with Haninozuka (and his pink bunny) sprawled along a seat all to himself and Morinozuka sitting across from her.

In her daze, she must have told them her address, because they were already moving.

What... what?

Haruhi mechanically turned her head and looked to the blond host again, "H.. Han..." She started before stopping when the other turned his steely gaze on her...

"Hunny-sempai..." She trailed off, correcting her title for him before he could speak.

She got a brilliant smile and a return to his childish demeanor as the result of the change. "Yes, Haru-chan?"

Haruhi suddenly just felt so tired of it all of the sudden. Why should she fuss about names anyway? It wasn't even really an insult, coming with Haninoz... from Hunny-sempai. But at the same time, such a change in name spoke of familiarity and that... well, that scared her, just a little bit.

"You don't have to do this. I'm sure you and Morin—"

"Mori-sempai!" Hunny-sempai once again cut her off.

"—Mori-sempai have better things to do. And I can't pay for the gass and—"

Haninozuka merely grinned and said in probably one of the most cutesy voices that Haruhi had heard the boy make, "I just want to help Haru-chan! This is what friends do, ne?"

Haruhi, well... she couldn't even find it within herself to go against that. Were they friends? They hardly spoke, and they watched her constantly. And the way that they looked at her, like something was wrong and they didn't understand... They were dangerous to her and her condition. She had never had friends before...

"Aa..." Haruhi mumbled and slumped in to the cushion behind her. She was bone tired, and this ride was far more relaxing then the one with Ayanokoji.

Haninozuka started up some conversation with Morinozuka and Haruhi merely let her eyes bounce back and forth between the two and stayed quiet. Hearing the occasional word from Morinozuka was more then enough surprises for the day.

The limo eventually pulled up to her neighborhood and Haruhi clamored out and ran to the right house. Well, 'jog' was a more apt description, but she hurried anyway. The front door popped open and she reached in and grabbed the plastic bag she had left by the front door. With that in hand, she pulled the front door shut and locked it and turned to hurry back to the car...

And promptly smacked right in to Morinozuka's chest and bounced back in to her locked front door.

… these two needed to stop scaring her!

Haruhi took in a shuddery breath as Haninozuka tilted his head back to stare at Haruhi's 'home' with wide eyes. "Haru-chan lives here?" He sounded so excited, but Haruhi was starting to think that it was just a default way that he spoke. And maybe it was the steel-eyed Haninozuka that she met from time to time that was the real thing.

"Aa... yes. I do." Haruhi checked her watch, suppressing any trembles that she still had, "and we need to get to school, sempai." Haninozuka seemed to want to protest, but Morinozuka turned on his heel and moved back to the limo. Haruhi was quick to follow him and Haninozuka trailed behind them, almost dragging 'Bun-bun' on the ground.

The way back was filled with chatter, and Haninozuka pulling some kind of foreign sweet out of the small refrigerator in the limo and munching. They didn't pull up to the walk-in gate, but to the drive in area where limos stopped to drop off their occupants. Haruhi never came this way, so she suddenly felt reluctant and shy to be coming this way... all the same.

"Sempai.." she started, and when both of the Third-years turned to look to her, she bowed slightly in her seat, "thank you." She added, holding her position for a moment before sitting up again. Morinozuka merely nodded his head to her, his face indifferent. Haninozuka had the largest ear to ear grin she had seen on him to date.

The limo stopped, and they all climbed out. Haruhi was the last to reluctantly step out. After all, the two hosts had a hoard of girls hanging around to cheerfully welcome them to school. She had hoped that they would go on without her... but the moment she stepped out, Haninozuka yanked her arm down a little and dragged her forward.

Well, if he hadn't dragged her, she would have frozen like a deer in headlights.

She clutched her school bag and her borrowed suit to her chest with her free arm and didn't fight the surprisingly strong host as he pulled her along through the crowd. He freely greeted the girls around them, although the girls themselves were making a point of just... staring!

Everything just... blurred.

And by the end of it, the two hosts left her outside of her classroom door with a cryptic, "we have a lunch meeting for the club, Kyoya said to be there!"

And they were gone.

And the girls were still staring, so Haruhi went inside of her classroom and huddled down in her seat... and wished that the day would end already.

* * *

><p>Haruhi wanted to yell and scream and hit something. She was even giving her lunch time to this stupid club and they didn't even bother to show up! Haruhi focused on deep breathing as she set up bag down on the couch that she had picked. The suit was left on the tiny table across from the couch and then she just... sagged.<p>

She let her body fall heavily on to the couch, and sighed when it formed around her body. She had never let herself sit on these posh pieces of furniture before. But it felt heavenly to her aching body.

She reached up and pulled her glasses off. She didn't even bother to open her eyes as she pinched the bridge of her nose in exasperation. Haruhi could really be doing anything at this moment. She could go eat something, she could be doing the literature assignment she had just been given...

But suddenly she was just too... too exhausted.

It was a Monday, and she was exhausted already. Today's Host Club was going to be hell.

She probably shouldn't have closed her eyes—the next thing she knew, there were two hands cupping her face, angling her head up and toward a shouting voice. What... what was all the noise for. Haruhi blearily opened her eyes, her fingers finding her glasses in her lap as she focused on the voice—and one of the Hosts, who else would be here?

"And look at him! Just look at him! Look at poor Haruhi-ku.. kun.."

Haruhi registered that as Tamaki Suoh.

"Suoh-sempai?" She asked as she raised her hand to push away whoever was clinging to her face with a sleepy nonchalance. She raised her other hand, the one with the glasses. She needed to see, after all.

Tamaki (that was who was in front of her, she could squint all she liked but it was only the audio cue that told her so) shifted and there was a hand that grabbed a hold of her wrist. And she was waking up. There was a reddish blur on either side of Tamaki's head.

Someone snapped their fingers.

_… what?_

"Whaaa!" Haruhi shrieked when suddenly she was being hauled up by bother of her arms. There were those red blurs at both of her sides—the twins!

She could hear Tamaki screaming for a tailor and contacts and cake as she was bodily hauled away. She didn't know where she was going, they were just... dragging her! For such skinny weak looking boys they were easily hauling her around!

Which, distantly, wasn't surprising considering that she was rather underweight...

"Let me go! Oi!" Haruhi barely kept her voice from reaching girlishly high pitches as she kicked out her legs and tried to wrench her arms free. "What are you doing!" What the hell was this!

Curtains, she felt curtains fluttering around her and there were hands—hands on her sweater—!

Haruhi lashed out, her arms were free after all. She struck. Her left hand sweeping out in front of herself to swat any hands away from her sweater... and the next, she brought the other hand up and smacked the twin on her left soundly on the back of the head. It was so loud it almost rattled her head. The twins froze at the sudden violence and Haruhi inhaled—ignore her previously rapid breathing..

"What the fuck are you two doing!" She snarled—she had had enough of this shit! She was tired, achy and she just... hated these two being so close to her!

She shoved her glasses back on. Having almost lost them.

Haruhi got her glasses on soon enough to see their fish impersonations. The twin on the left was holding the back of his head and staring at her. The other was holding one of his hands with a pitiful expression. They were just staring.

Haruhi scowled—"well?" She straightened her back and did her best to look bigger then she was.

"Tono told us to get you in to this." One of the twins (the hand one) motioned to a hook off to the side. A spare Ouran uniform. And Haruhi looked around the room. There was a posh chair. A small table and other little things. She had never been in this cubicle before. But she realized after a moment what it was. It was a changing room.

Slowly she brought her eyes back to the twins, who were no longer nursing their tiny hurts.

"And you two couldn't have asked?" Haruhi hissed.

The twins watched her, looking down at her side by side for a moment before they grinned. And goodness, that just about stopped Haruhi's heart. Those were not the twins' 'not-smiles'. There was something calculating behind their eyes.

"Nope!" They threw an arm around each other's shoulders. "Where would the fun be in that?" The one of the right asked.

"No fun at all, that is what." The one of the right answered.

Haruhi resisted the urge to throw a punch at them. They could easily overpower her now that they knew that she could lash out in such a fashion. She no longer had any surprise on her side. So she mentally stomped her foot in to the ground, breathed...

"Well, get out of here, you idiots!"

Well, they looked startled for a second, and Haruhi merely stomped forward and chased them out. Waving her arms like she had learned that you had to do to chase of certain wild animals. Even then, they reluctantly fled. That calculating light hadn't left their eyes as they did so.

It left Haruhi alone in a changing room, with a spare Ouran uniform...

What was happening?

Haruhi rubbed the back of her neck and watched the uniform for a second before prowling around the perimeter of the room. She searched for anything technological. Any cameras, anything that could record her for humiliation. When she came up with nothing, she came to a stop in front of the uniform once again. She looked down at her sweater and ran her fingers through the material.

The uniform... what did it mean?

Eventually, Haruhi brought it down off of the hook and gently pulled off the jacket. She took the uniform apart and laid it on the table. The twins were told to put her in to it... and well, she knew they had left the area. She had heard their shoes, after all. Haruhi frowned down at the uniform and then decided to just not fight this.

She was starting to feel like the Host Club was merely a force of nature. To struggle against it was futile.

So, Haruhi, for all of her mettle... for the first time in as long as she could remember... gave in.

She switched out the pants first, and then pulled off her sweater and comfortable t-shirt. It left her in just her bra and old undershirt. She pulled on the starched uniform shirt. She could see the outline of her undershirt... and it wasn't nearly as baggy as her other clothes. She glanced to a mirror that was off to the side and analyzed.

It was easier to see.. a more feminine form like this. Haruhi almost yanked it off. But stiffly, she pulled on the tie (poorly done, she didn't actually know how to do that) and then the jacket. She buttoned the uniform all the way up. The jacket was large, made for someone with broader shoulders then her and a thicker trunk. It sagged a little.

It made her look flat like a tree. So she relaxed for a moment.

Haruhi folded up her clothes and sighed to herself.

Before she could leave the room, Tamaki popped in. His face practically gleeful. He shoved a box in to her hands, demanded that she 'put them in' and was up and away.

… he had put a pair of disposable contacts in to her hands.

Haruhi felt like she was dangling from the roof of an extremely tall building. The strength in her arms was swiftly fading and there was no one there to grab hold of her when she slips. Haruhi didn't really know how to put contacts in, but she eventually figured it out after a few tries and a few pokes to the eye. She wiped her face free of eye-poke tears, straightened out her hair and then...

And then she didn't recognize herself in the mirror.

Haruhi blinked and waved her hand slightly. She watched the pretty-boy in the mirror do the same.

She dimly remembered the deal she made with Tamaki, about her becoming a 'Host'. Somehow, the thought didn't bring her joy. Instead, she calculated the cost of these items, mentally sighed to herself and felt a hundred times more tired then before.

Still she heard them amassing outside of the 'changing room'.

Instead, she fixed a polite smile on to her face and drew aside the curtains and stepped out... stepped out to see tears and self-satisfied looks on their faces.

".. Sempai, what is this all about?" Haruhi was actually a little hesitant to ask. Tamaki had real tears on his face before he swept her up, grabbing her face again as he loomed over her.

"This is simply wonderful! Haruhi-kun, you could almost be a girl!"

"Pretty Haru-chan!"

"You should have warned us about your face!"

… Haruhi felt like something horribly irreversible had happened. And that there hadn't been anything she could have done to stop it anyway.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** It was kind of inevitable that this happened. It wouldn't be the same, The Host Club without Haruhi. But things are already different, and Haruhi will find her equilibrium again in a moment. Did anyone get the reference of the first line? Ah, the things to come! Please review if you get the chance. :D


End file.
